This Bitter Pill
by godfatherambs
Summary: After a devastating accident, Jason Quartermaine becomes Jason Morgan. In an attempt to wipe the slate clean of his former life, he divorces Elizabeth Quartermaine, not knowing she's carrying a secret that will impact both their lives forever.
1. Chapter 1

**[Prompt - ****No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched. - George Jean Nathan]**

**Chapter 1**

"Just sign the fucking divorce papers," Jason Morgan hissed, slamming the flimsy stack of stapled papers down on the desk and glaring at his wife. He jerked open the desk drawer and fumbled for a pen. "Just do it and get the hell out of here."

"Will you please just talk to me – just for a-"

"Sign the fucking papers, Elizabeth," he snarled, narrowing his menacing, cerulean eyes at her. "Do it."

She swallowed hard, taking the pen when he thrust it at her. She hadn't come to Harbor View Towers to leave a divorcee; she'd come to give Jason a reason to live. "Jason…" She rolled it around in her hand, clenching it tightly in her fist. "Will you please-"

"I asked you to sign the papers and get the fuck out of my house," he interrupted, shoving them towards her. "Just do it."

Nodding, she sank her teeth into her lower lip, her eyes falling to the bright, yellow tags that stuck out from the paper work. With the flick of her wrist she could be free; from a husband who didn't want her, from a name she didn't wish to carry any longer, and still, she couldn't do it.

"Jason, will you give me a minute to talk to-"

"You've talked a lot, and I'm tired of you showing up on my doorstep and crying like some pathetic-"

"Stop it," she warned, setting the pen down on the desk and backing away. She wasn't going to let him do this to her again.

It had been bad enough when he'd ignored her every time she visited him in the hospital. And then he'd kicked her out of her own home; packing her things and setting them in the hallway for her to find after she'd come home from work.

And now he was going to tell her she was pathetic.

"I'm done, Elizabeth. I don't want anything to do with you," he muttered spitefully, purposely trying to hurt her. "I can't even stand to look at you."

"You're a son of a bitch," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes as she looked at him, desperately seeking some kind of familiarity.

What happened to the softness in his eyes? The promise of tomorrow? And the twinkle whenever he looked her way? Could something that was so real, that she felt so deep – could it just disappear overnight?

The two of them always promised to be stronger than that.

"Do you think that hurting everyone who cares about you is going to fix things?" she asked quietly, tightening her jaw. She wasn't going to cry in front of him – not now or ever again. She was all cried out and if he wanted to treat her like she was trash, then she was just going to give it right back. "You'll be left with nothing."

"That's what I want." He jabbed a slender finger on the divorce papers. "You don't care about me and neither does anyone else. You're just waiting – you want-"

"Everyone cares about you, but you're too stubborn to see it!" she cried, praying he would take a breath and see things how they really were. "Those people who you told to go to hell – who you said were nothing to you, are your family, Jason! They gave birth to you and they raised you and-"

"I'm not the boy they raised, and they'll never look at me without seeing him," he argued angrily, raising a clenched fist to his mouth. "Why won't you all go away?"

She couldn't recall ever seeing him like this; so bitter and hurt, so determined to hurt the people he loved – or _used_ to at least.

"We're worried about you. You're so upset all the time and we want to help you, but you won't let us."

"Because I don't want your help," he snarled, shaking his head. "I want all of you to go away. I don't want you coming around and telling me I'm making mistakes and being reckless and-"

"You just had brain surgery, Jason!" she cried exhaustedly, throwing her hands up. "You've been out of the hospital for barely a month, and you've already put yourself back in there by wrecking your motorcycle. You're acting as if you don't want to live."

"Maybe I don't," he challenged, shrugging smugly. "I ride the cliff road fast and wait. Because if I can't get you all to leave me alone, I'll make it-"

"Don't say that," she said, her heart tightening at the twinkle in his eyes as he hurt her. She knew it was deliberate; his sad attempt to push her away. It had worked on his family and his friends, but she refused to walk away from him and leave him when he needed her the most.

"You've already lost your husband. They lost their son and their friend. I'm nobody."

She flinched at his words, hating that she couldn't hide how much this hurt her. "If I sign the papers will you stop?"

"Being annoyed with you?" he asked annoyed, rolling his eyes. "I don't know. I think that dislike is lasting."

"Stop hurting yourself," she said, grabbing the pen from the desk, her hands trembling as she flipped through the pages.

"I'm not any of your concern," he growled, looking pointedly at her hand. "Sign."

"The least you could do-"

"I've done the least for you," he interrupted, holding out his hand and preparing to tick off the list of things he'd done _for her_. "_I_ went to a lawyer. _I_ had the lawyer draw up the papers. _I_ gave you everything – money, a new apartment, the stupid jaguar that you so dearly loved. You got all the wealth and fame that came with being Jason-"

"I don't want any of that," she insisted, nibbling her lip, too afraid to admit what she wanted.

She'd tried time and time again; at every visit, when he was released – she tried to make him understand that she wanted nothing more than to be there for him. Because he was – the man he used to be was her husband and because no one deserved to be as alone as Jason Morgan was forcing himself to be.

Sure, he had every right to be angry; he'd lost his entire identity – a career as a CEO of a billion dollar company, a wife who loved him more than anything, and himself. Never again would he be the man who wore the pressed suits to the stuffy meetings he hated, coming home at night to shake his head in disgust at just how greedy the men in his business were. He wouldn't make suggestive comments as he slid into bed beside his wife and he wouldn't wake her with a cup of coffee on the days he decided to call in.

He wouldn't be Jason Quartermaine _ever_ again.

"Are you signing or not?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

She could feel an ultimatum coming; one final demand about the divorce. He'd already threatened to take everything she had, but that hadn't stopped her from fighting him, and she'd just shrugged her shoulders when he suggested taking her to court and humiliating her in front of the whole town. She didn't care about anyone except him, and he was too stupid to see it, and she was starting to wonder why she cared so damn much.

"I have somewhere to be."

She perked up, knowing it was none of her business, but still, she couldn't stop herself. "A meeting?"

"Maybe," he grunted, arching his eyebrows. "It's none of your damn business."

"I know," she agreed, cringing at the possibility of the former Golden Boy of Port Charles actually going into business with mob kingpin, Sonny Corinthos. That worried her the most; the possibility of Jason jumping to the other side of the law in an attempt to run everyone from his old life away. "I just wish you would think rationally before you-"

"I'm not listening to this," he cut in, banging his fist on the divorce papers. "Sign and get out, Elizabeth. Go be the pathetic _widow_ somewhere else."

"Contrary to what you may think, Jason, this is the last place I want to be."

"Could have fooled me," he shrugged, leaning over the desk. "I just thought maybe Jason Quartermaine had a thing for whiney, unwanted whor-" He shut up when her palm collided against his cheek so hard that she felt the sting all the way to the end of her elbow.

He reacted more angrily than she imagined, grabbing her by hand and jerking her towards him. "You want to get physical – that's fine," he hissed, turning her around his arms so that her back was pressed firmly against his chest.

"Jason…" She whimpered as his hands tightened over her. They'd gone tooth and nail several times since he'd gotten out of the hospital, but he'd never grabbed her, not like this.

He wrapped his fist over her hand that held the pen and bent her over the desk. "Sign," he growled in her ear. "Sign and get the-"

"What the hell are you doing?" Sonny cried, the penthouse door swinging open in a rush. "Jason, let got of her!" He released her almost instantly, the power that Sonny seemed to have over her husband all too obvious, and she wondered how he was capable of getting through to Jason when no one else was. "Don't you ever put your hands on her like that. I know you're upset and having a hell of a time with what's going on, but Elizabeth is your wife-"

"Soon to be ex," he cut in, backing away from her, his eyes lingering on her face as she turned to face him. His lip twitched angrily, and she wondered if he was upset because he felt the need to apologize.

"Regardless, she deserves respect," he said, looking between them. The kingpin had been surprisingly kind to Elizabeth since the accident; always checking up on her and making sure she was okay. Well, as okay as she could be, all things considered. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Elizabeth murmured, turning back to the desk. A tear slipped down the curve of her cheek and plopped onto the papers. She watched as it smeared the ink into a messy blot. "I was just…leaving…after I…" She lifted her eyes and looked around the penthouse, closing them briefly as if to hang onto what good memories still existed here. "After I signed."

Her eyes fluttered open as she scrambled to scribble her name messily on each marked line, leaving the pen placed neatly in the middle. She forced a smile at the mob boss and hurried out of the penthouse, refusing to give Jason Morgan so much as a second glance. She slammed the door so hard behind her she could have sworn the door facing cracked, and she hoped to leave one last mark on that penthouse, one last thing that would drive him completely insane.

"It's over," she whispered, scrubbing her hands over her face as she punched the elevator button, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks, letting her hand fall to rest on her stomach. Slowly, she fisted her hand in the material of her shirt, wishing there was someway to make the growing bump just disappear.


	2. Chapter 2

**[Prompt: "Nothing's ever for sure, John. That's the only sure thing I do know." – A Beautiful Mind]**

**Chapter 2**

_Christmas Eve _

"Poor Reginald," Elizabeth laughed, following her husband into the penthouse, shivering as she adjusted to the sudden warmth. "I thought Edward was going to fire him when he tripped on the rug and dropped the ham!"

"Oh, I know," her husband replied, tossing his keys down on the desk by the door, and shrugging out of his pea coat. "The cook works so hard every year to make dinner…"

"And we always end up having pizza," she finished, dusting snow out of her hair as she handed Jason her coat.

"Well, there was ham on it," he pointed out, walking over to the closet to hang up their coats.

"I don't know what your family would do if the Pizza Shack wasn't open," she said, hurrying over to the fireplace.

"Starve," he joked, following after her, "which might not be a bad thing." He stooped in front of the fireplace as she handed him logs. "I just wish AJ would have camecome."

"Me too," she sighed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "You're going to have to give him time, Jason. He's really hurt by what Edward did."

"Can you blame him?" he asked, leaning away from the fireplace as he lit some paper and tossed it in. "I know he's my brother, but he's not ready to run ELQ."

"And you are," she agreed, reaching for his hand as he stood up, "but AJ's still hurt. He's the one who chose business school and wanted to run the company. You sort of got roped into it."

"It was for the best," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulder as they stood in front of the fire. "Otherwise, right now I'd be starting out as an intern, flat broke and living in some run down apartment on the other side of town."

"Would you be happier?" she asked seriously, cringing when he just looked at her.

Sometimes she forgot there was such a thing as _too_ close to Jason Quartermaine.

"We have it good, Elizabeth," he replied, pulling her over to the couch.

"I know," she murmured, tucking her knees under her as she settled beside him. "I just remember the boy who wanted to be a doctor."

"What about the girl who wanted to be a nurse?" he asked, combing his fingers through her damp curls.

"Oh, she met a rich boy who gave her the chance to do what she really wanted," she teased, leaning over to kiss him gently.

"Yeah, the rich boy thinks she's alright," he chuckled, pulling her into his lap.

Grinning, she moved to straddle him. "I love you, Jason Quartermaine," she whispered, cupping his face as she kissed him. "So very, very much."

"So you're not upset that I don't have letters behind my name?" he asked, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs.

"I guess," she shrugged nonchalantly., "I can settle for CEO." He kissed her again, harder this time, and took the opportunity to flip her over so she was beneath him. "I'm really proud of you, Jase. You worked really hard and it paid off."

"Mmhmm," he grumbled, his tongue tracing the column of her throat.

She shivered, her body curling against him.

"It's good…" he paused, peppering kissesing up her neck and over her cheek, where heand settlinged at her mouth. "To have you to share it with."

"Oh, stop," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I think the holidays have made you overly sentimental."

"Things are really good right now," he reminded her seriously. "And I can only think of one thing that's missing."

"Oh, what's that?" she asked, arching her eyebrows at him.

His lips brushed over hers again and he looked her in the face. "I still want to have a baby, Elizabeth. I know you said you weren't ready, but that was months ago, and I-"

"Actually," she interrupted, gently pushing him up and sliding out from beneath him, "we need to talk about that."

Frowning, he sat up and hung his head. "I don't want to fight about this again, but we've been married for a few years now, and – and you know that my grandmother is getting old, and she wants a great grandchild so badly."

"I know," Elizabeth murmured, getting up from the couch and walking over to the fireplace, her chest tightening as she looked at their neatly hung stockings. She ran a slender finger over the soft, red velvet. "You didn't peak into your stocking this year, did you?"

"What?" he asked confused, and before he could question her further there was a familiar pounding on the door.

"Jason," she warned, but he didn't hear her, and was already answering the door, prepared for yet another fight with his brother.

"Hey! It's the prodigal son!" AJ saluted, breezing past his brother and grinning at Elizabeth. "And his beautiful wife! How's my favorite sister-in-law?"

"I missed you at dinner," she replied, staring past him at Jason, hoping he wouldn't let this ruin their Christmas. "We all did."

"You always had a soft spot for me, Lizzie," he slurred, rocking back and forth on his feet. "I bet you were the only one-"

"AJ, if you came here to feel sorry about yourself, you can try the bar down the street," Jason interrupted angrily, ignoring his wife's pleading eyes.

"Where do you think I've been all night?" he asked spitefully, his hands shaking. "I knew I wouldn't be welcomed at dinner because of the fit I threw at the board meeting last week, and I wasn't going to walk in with my tail between my legs either." He clenched his hands into fists, his lips quivering as he narrowed his eyes at his brother. "That company was supposed to be mine. When I was a kid, all our grandfather talked about was how I was going to run the family companybusiness, but then dad's bastard had to come along."

"Oh, AJ," Elizabeth sighed, holding her hands against her mouth.

"Get out," Jason growled, pointing at the open door.

"What? You can't handle the truth, brother?" he asked spitefully. "You're nothing more than our father's mistake, and he's trying to make it up to you, I think. That he didn't want you around and he didn't want you in the house-"

"You can't blame me for their choices, AJ," he interrupted, shaking his head as if to warn him. "If you weren't too busy drowning in booze and whores, _you_ would be running the company. You gave them no other choice."

"It's always been me against you," he muttered, shifting his eyes to Elizabeth. "Always. He doesn't get it at all, sweetheart. I was the first born, the good son, and then suddenly I had to play second fiddle to the bastard. I was never as good as Jason – as behaved – as liked – as good in school. He just had to go to study business. He couldn't handle me having something. Hell, I even had my eye on you first, but he went after-"

"AJ, that's it!" Jason cried, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

"Stop it!" Elizabeth shouted, her heart breaking for the both of them. No one was to blame for this situation but the Quartermaines. They had forced these brothers into hating one another, but it wasn't her place to point that out.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," AJ chanted, holding his hands up as he stared his brother in the face. "But from this moment on, you're dead to me." He tore himself out of Jason's grasp and stumbled out the door, slamming it behind him.

"Elizabeth, I'm sor-"

"You have to go after him," she interrupted, her eyes filling with tears.

"What?" he asked, throwing his hands up in disbelief.

"He's your brother, Jason, and he's hurting. And you know that the person he's most angry with is himself," she replied, willing to beg him if she had to. "Please."

"He's too wasted to care about anything right now," he argued, shaking his head.

"Exactly. He's wasted and probably driving," she pointed out, lifting a hand to his face. She stroked his cheek. "Please go after him. _Please_."

Sighing, he turned and started for the door. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else."

"I know," she smiled, gently wiping her eyes.

He opened the door and looked over his shoulder, his eyes soft and understanding, and she knew he loved his brother more than he wanted to admit. "I love you."

"You too," she whispered, the door closing behind him.

Taking a deep breath, she started towards the couch, the stockings on the mantle catching her eye. She walked over and pulled Jason's off the brass hook, the velvet soft and warm in her hands. Slipping a hand inside, she felt around for the cool, silver gift she'd nestled in the bottom, her eyes filling with tears all over again when she pulled the silver, baby rattle from the bottom.

"Well," she sighed, placing a hand nervously against her stomach, "there's always tomorrow."

**********

"There you go, one double cheeseburger and a side of fries," Elizabeth grinned, setting the plate down in front of a customer. "How are you doing, Mr. Lansing? Anything exciting going on down at the PCPD?"

The man in the suit chuckled softly, his voice lowering seductively, and he whispered something that Jason couldn't hear. Elizabeth laughed – more like cackled – the sound ringing through the tiny diner.

It made his stomach turn.

"Call Sonny," Jason muttered, shifting his eyes to the guard sitting beside him. "If he's not close, tell him Kelly's is too busy, and we need to go somewhere else."

The guard hesitated briefly, but hurried to his feet when Jason continued to glare at him.

Sighing, he leaned against the back of the chair, his hands clasped in his lap as he watched her continue to flirt with district attorney. She floated from customer to customer at the counters and tables, but always came back to him.

It was disgusting.

Worsened by the fact that she knew he was sitting in the diner; her eyes found his from time to time, lingering as if _wanting_ him to speak to her. He was forced to glare back until she looked away, usually excusing herself from her work duties immediately, and disappearing into the back. She reappeared a few minutes later, red-faced and exhausted looking, and then she'd start pissing him off all over again.

"Oh, Ric, you're awful," she laughed, wiping down the counter with a damp rag, her cheeks flushing as the man murmured something else. She looked up from the counter when Georgie, another waitress, opened the door and asked for her help with something outside. "Be right there, G."

Jason dropped his eyes back to the table as she started around the counter, her knees buckling as she neared the door. He could practically smell her fear, how she panicked when he walked in, and acted busy and bubbly to show that she was unaffected.

It was sad really.

"Sonny is pulling into the back alley now," the guard said, sitting down across from him.

"Thank you," Jason replied, lifting his eyes briefly. "I'd like sit alone until he gets here."

"Oh, of course," he nodded, stumbling as he got up from his chair and hurried out of the diner.

He didn't understand why everyone was so nervous around him, never looking him in the eye, and shuffling their feet when he walked into a room. Only Sonny seemed unaffected by his accident and treated him like he was a person and not some walking time bomb.

"Excuse me," he barked loudly, looking up as Elizabeth breezed back into the diner.

Her plastered grin faded as she looked at him. "Yes?" she asked, smoothing her trembling hands over the front of her apron.

Then again, maybe he liked people being afraid of them. It kept them away, prevented questions, and allowed him to be alone.

"I've been here for a half an hour," he said, arching an eyebrow at her. "I'd like some service if you aren't too busy flirting with your boyfriend over there."

Clearing her throat, her cheeks flamed up, and she looked away, her hands fisted in the front of her apron. "This isn't my section," she replied, failing to sound as professional as she tried to. "And who I'm involved with is none of your business."

"So you are sleeping with him?" he pried, rolling his eyes when she huffed and called him a name under his breath.

"I'm working," she said, her chest heaving as the bell above the diner door rang. Both of their attention shifted to the mob boss who was making his way inside, bodyguards in tow. "Georgie is your waitress. Harass her."

"Thank you," he called after her, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Have a nice day, _Mrs._ _Quartermaine_."

"It's Webber now, asshole," she spat over her shoulder, before disappearing into the back.

"Jason," Sonny scolded, clucking his tongue as he slid into a chair at the table.

"I'm hungry," he huffed, not sure why it upset him so much when his boss told him he was doing something wrong. "She won't take my order."

"I wonder why," he retorted, waving his guards away with his hand. "Did you know she worked here when you told me to meet you?"

"No," he replied angrily, wishing he had because then he would have chosen the furthest restaurant from this place. "I don't keep tabs on her, Sonny. She signed the divorce papers a month ago, so she's got her money. S, and she can leave me the hell alone."

"Or vice versa," he sighed, looking over his shoulder as Elizabeth came from the back, her eyes red-rimmed and face flushed. "You need to be easier on her."

"I don't want to talk about this," Jason muttered, looking up as Georgie approached. Sonny rattled off his order and looked expectantly at his employee. "Just a coffee. I'm not hungry anymore, and make sure Webber over there doesn't spit in it."

"Forgive him," Sonny apologized, flashing his dimples to the waitress, who instantly grinned back. "He's having a moment."

"Not a problem," she said sweetly, tucking her pad of paper into her apron. "I'll have your food ready in a minute, Mr. Corinthos."

"Don't even," Jason muttered, when he felt the mobster's dark eyes settle on him.

They'd have had this conversation over and over; before the divorce, after the divorce, and anytime her name managed to come up in conversation, which was a lot. No one seemed capable of forgetting that he'd divorced the nicest, most beautiful girl in town.

Sonny was more patient than the rest though. He seemed to understand Jason's desire to let go of his old life, he just didn't like him hurting people because he was hurting and didn't know what else to do with his anger. He understood his Jason's destructive side, but was always telling him to do something positive with it, and not destroy what life he had left.

The more he learned about his boss, the more he admired him; a man who had come from nothing and built an empire from scraps. Sure, it wasn't the most illegal of lifestyles, which was what had drawn Jason to it in the first place, but Sonny kept things as clean as he could. No drugs, no guns, and neither were to be run existed heavily in his territory.

And he believed Jason was capable of doing something, which was unlike everyone else. They acted like he was so stilted, so handicapped, and they wanted to coddle him, so he appreciated Sonny's admiration. He honestly only intended to just work in the man's warehouses, but Sonny said Jason had a knack for reading people, and that was beneficial. So far, he'd only set in on a couple of meetings with some of Sonny's acquaintances, but and his boss seemed impressed. Id, and it felt good to have someone believing in him.

Not that was he going to start bragging about it.

"So, we have a meeting in a few days in one of our empty warehouses," Sonny murmured quietly, watching Jason intently and waiting for some kind of signal should the district attorney choose to cause a problem. He liked to conduct business like this is public, that way no one could accuse him of conspiring behind closed doors.

Thankfully, Ric Lansing was too wrapped up in Jason's ex-wife to give them the time of day.

"It's with Anthony Zacchara. He wants to use one of my docks for a while, and he's promised it's not for anything illegal, so I'm having that checked out," he continued, pausing when Georgie appeared with his food. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Anytime, sir," she smiled warmly, glancing briefly at Jason, but not asking if he wanted anything.

Everyone was so damned afraid of him.

"Anyway, it's his son I'm worried about. He's a little off – erratic and crazy. Anthony's trying to show him the ways of the business, but he likes to cause trouble, so I want you to keep an eye on him," he finished, arching his eyebrow. "Well?"

"Yeah, I'll watch the little shit," he muttered, grimacing when he caught Elizabeth's eyes, and he glaredglaring until she disappeared into the back again. "Sonnyy?"

"Yeah?" he asked, looking confused as Jason got up from the table.

He grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the chair. "We can't meet here anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

**[Prompt: The truth is rarely pure and never simple. - Oscar Wilde]**

**Chapter 3**

_Christmas Day _

"What are you doing here?"

Elizabeth's eyes snapped up from the chair at the side of the bed, her stomach in knots as she looked her brother-in-law in the face. "You were alone."

"I should be," he muttered, lifting an IV stuck hand to his face. His fingers traced over the bandages on his head, the stitches about his eye and on his lower lip.

"It's Christmas," she reminded him, sitting up slowly and yawning. She lifted her coat from her lap and shook it out, before draping it over her knees again, her silent way of saying she wasn't going anywhere.

"Bah-humbug," he growled, glaring at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, her knees almost buckling as she pushed herself out of her chair. "I just…I couldn't sit with _them_." She hurried towards the door, stopping when AJ called out her name.

"Elizabeth," he repeated, softer this time, "how is he?"

"He just got out of surgery a few hours ago," she replied, turning around and leaning against the doorway. "Dr. – Dr. Jones said there was a lot of fluid on his brain or something…I don't…"

"Sit down," he muttered, tossing his head towards the chair by his bed.

"The family is sitting with him," she said, walking back over to the chair. "He's so still and pale, and he's not – he doesn't _look_ like Jason to me, and – I know what Monica said to you last night."

It was hurting them all that the family was so at odds, so determined to place blame anywhere when really there was no where it belonged. A horrible accident had occurred, one brought on by too much alcohol and black ice, and the only way they would survive would be to stick together. The Quartermaines were usually good at that, but this was different.

This was Jason; their livelihood, their namesake, the love of their lives, and if they could blame AJ for it, they would. After all, they'd pitted the boys against one another for years, nearly their entire lives, and if someone wanted to be cruel, they could point out that this had been in the making. That the only way one brother would succeed over the other was in death, the one who lived being the real winner.

"She was right," he shrugged, picking at the tape on his IV. "I _killed_ my brother."

"You didn't kill him," she grimaced, easing herself back into the chair. "He almost – he almost, and that's all…"

"He went through the windshield," AJ grunted angrily, obviously trying to make her see the truth.

"Stop," she warned, holding her hand over her mouth. "I saw him, okay. I know what he through, and I don't have to hear about it."

"Why else are you here?" he asked, looking her in the face. "Mom and Dad couldn't wait to hear how I took their beloved son and ruined him. How I drove my convertible into a telephone and my brother went through the windshield. How the doctors don't know if he's going to wake up. How you lost your husband-"

"Stop it," she cried, lunging from the chair and hitting him in the chest. "You son of a bitch! You don't get to act like this now!" She hit him again, over and over, and he just took it, not caring that it hurt. This wasn't about what he said, but the accident, and everything leading up to it, and he would have let her beat on him all night if it made her feel the tiniest bit better. "AJ, he's your brother! You don't get to play the sorry routine now!"

She continued to hit him, and he wasn't sure how long it was before she stopped; only that she looked horrified when she realized what she was doing. "Oh, God, AJ. I'm so…" She got up from the bed and rubbed her hands over her face as she started to pace. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"It's okay," he said stiffly, taking a deep breath. "I – I deserved that from _you_. I just – you shouldn't be here, Lizzie, not now. Not after what I did."

There was an ugly truth that existed in all this; Aa very drunk AJ Quartermaine had driven into a telephone pole while his brother sat in the passenger's seat. Only Jason wasn't wearing a seatbelt, and he hadn't followed after his brother in another car, choosing to jump right in, knowing that AJ was smashed. A fight had enmost likely sued,ensued; an argument built from years of heartache, and somewhere along the way AJ turned the corner too fast.

Sure, the police would blame AJ, as well as his family and anyone who read the article in the paper, but Elizabeth just couldn't. She knew her husband well enough to know that if the shoe were on the foot, if she were lying in that hospital bed down the hall, Jason would never forgive his brother, but she'd always had a soft spot for AJ. She always wanted him to be better than he thought he was capable of, and sometimes she wondered if she was the only person who believed in him.

And really, who was she to point fingers?

"Stop it," she said, gritting her teeth. "We're family, and we're going to wait this out. I just can't be with them. Or him. I _can't_."

It was easier not to see what was going on; not to be surrounded by the tears and the worries and the angry comments. If she stayed away, she could somewhat pretend it didn't exist, that there had been no fight between the brothers, no or her begging Jason to follow after him, and no a freak accident in the middle of town.

"Okay," he nodded, gesturing towards the chair, needing to appease her. "Like you said…it's, uh, it's Christmas, even if I ruined it forever.… I'm so sorry, Lizzie."

"It's okay," she whispered, taking the seat again, her hands tucked under her thighs as she slowly rocked back and forth, her eyes closed. She was slowly crumbling before his eyes. "AJ, he can't – he has to wake up…"

"I know," he replied thickly, his own eyes filling with tears.

They sat in silence, the clock above the wall ticking the seconds on by. After a while, Elizabeth scooted her chair closer to the bed and reached out to take AJ's hand, her touch catching him off guard.

"I'm scared," she admitted, slumping over the edge of the bed as she burst into tears. It was the first time he'd ever seen her cry. "I'm so scared."

**********

Sonny Corinthos had scheduled a lot of meetings in his years as a kingpin. He was used to sitting across from a friend, an enemy, or a newfound acquaintance and discussing how they a relationship could be beneficial (or not so much) for one another. It was the best way to work out things in his business, and he learned to value the conversation of with another man. It allowed him to read their face, see the truth and passion that lay in their eyes, and ultimately, it was what helped him decide whether or not he would align himself with the person sitting across from him.

He'd come across all sorts of men; cruel and cunning, lazy and worthless. The kind who were willing to kill to get what they wanted; igniting wars in the streets and threatening Sonny's life, as well as the ones who wanted nothing more than to cause trouble, not caring who about the innocent lives they hurt in the process. Most men of his kind wanted to work to a solution, to find a way out of the situation they were in without creating any kind of trouble.

Elizabeth Webber was no different than those select few who cared about their role in a problem, but that didn't make her any less complicated, or put the man at ease.

If Sonny wished wanted to be truthful, he would admit that sitting across from Elizabeth was one of the most terrifying experiences of his life.

"I appreciate you taking the time to see me," she murmured quietly, clutching her oversized purse in her lap.

He never understood a woman's need to have a bag so large, so full of things they never needed, especially when the woman was always so petite, and looked as if the bag was weighing her down.

Of course, he did understand Elizabeth's reason for holding something so large and wide against her stomach, and he hoped she realized it didn't hide the truth any less.

"Well, regardless of what you may think," he said slowly, scratching a slender finger across his brow, "I am here for you."

"Because of Jason," she replied, her lips pulled in a tight frown.

"Because of Jason," he agreed, knowing she could care less that Sonny cared for her out of obligation to a man who hated disliked her existence. Eventually, he wanted her to find some kind of solace in knowing that someone was on her side.

"Thank you." The gratitude fell from her mouth in a whisper, her fingers curling into the leather bag. "For – for not telling him. Or at least, I assume you haven't because he doesn't seem to…"

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes as they filled with tears, and he couldn't imagine what she was feeling in that very moment. She was pregnant; carrying a child whose father couldn't remember it, and at this time, wouldn't want it if he did.

Sonny tried hard to convince Jason to be patient with her, to understand things from her point of view, but he was so upset, so heartbroken that all he could see was red. His anger at his situation, at his family, at his ex-wife was controlling everything about him, and the only time Jason seemed to be in the clear was when he was working. So, he Sonny did his damnedest to keep his new employee busy; work at the warehouse, errands in the city, anything to prevent the possibility of him running into Elizabeth and upsetting her.

The woman had more stress than he needed, and he wasn't going to allow Jason to add to it. She was lonely and fragile, the stressanxiety of the past few months heavy in her shoulders and the deep, dark bags beneath her eyes. While he'd never been close to Elizabeth before, Sonny knew who she was; that she was lively and beautiful, and everyone who knew her loved her.

Except Jason.

That was all that had changed in her life, and clearly, it left every ounce of her unsettled.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, trying to shake the memory of Elizabeth standing outside the elevator, her hand pressed against her stomach. Even now, she looked so much like she had that day, so afraid it paralyzed her, except now she was coming to him instead of hurrying into the elevator and running away.

"He doesn't know," Sonny murmured, finally relieving her of any further worry.

"Oh," she gasped, her eyes fluttering open as her hands loosened on her bag, obviously relieved that he wasn't that much of a bastard. "You – you lied?"

"I'm _choosing_ not to tell," he said thickly, his stomach churning as it often did when he thought about the truth he was holding.

Jason came to him when he had nowhere else to go, and he looked to Sonny for guidance. He expected his boss to keep things simple enough for him to understand them, to treat him as he would anyone else, and mostly, to be his friend.

"I can't imagine that's easy," she replied, shifting uneasily in her chair. Taking a deep breath, she tucked her curls behind her ear with a shaky hand. "I was going to tell him that day at the penthouse. I thought – I thought I could give him a reason to live, but…"

"He has to want to live," Sonny filled in, sucking in a breath when she finally lifted her eyes to his.

"Exactly," she nodded, her lower lip quivering. "And I – I can't give him that, which I'll come to terms with eventually, but you – you do. I'm not going to lie to you, Mr. Corinthos. I don't like the idea of him working for you, but I understand it'sthe appeal. It's dangerous and wrong, so unlike something he would have done before the accident. And I know I have no place, but all I want – all I _need_ is for him to be safe."

Sonny's heart tightened inside his chest when he realized what she wanted from him. "I can't make any guarantees about his life, Elizabeth. If I could, I would because you don't deserve any more stress or heartache." Running a hand over his face, he got up from his chair and walked around to the other side of the desk, and set down on the edge. "I'll do my best for you and for your child."

Her purse slowly slipped to the floor at his words, her trembling hands falling to her stomach. "I want – I want to tell him, but I don't know how. He _hates_ me," she stressed, clenching her hands in the material of her shirt. "And I don't – I won't be the reason he pushes himself over the edge. He wants to be Jason Morgan and live his life, and I want to be Elizabeth Webber and live mine."

"I think hate is a strong word," he challenged, scratching his chin. "I don't know much about the medical aspect of Jason's accident, but I do know that the doctors said he would be like a child for a while. And I don't have any children, but I was a teenage boy once, and when we can't understand something, we rebuff it in every possible way."

"And when the acting out is over?" she asked, lifting her eyes to his, desperately wanting him to have some kind of answer. "He's going to hate me for lying to him, and he'll hate me if I tell the truth." Her voice broke and she slumped forward, her head in her hands as she started to cry. "I can't stand the idea of him hating me."

"Hey, hey, hey," he murmured, kneeling down beside her, not sure how to comfort her. His meetings rarely ended in tears, and most women he made cry stopped because he bought them off with something shiny. Diamonds and trips out of the country weren't going to work here. "You know, I don't think – I don't think he hates you. He just doesn't know what to do or how to handle you and that frustrates him."

"I'm – I'm sor – sorry," she stammered, scrambling to grab her bag as she got up from the chair. Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she tossed her bag over her shoulder and gave him a brief look. "I shouldn't have come here. I'm putting you in an awkward position, and it's not fair, so-"

"I won't tell Jason the truth for you," he interrupted gently, straightening to his feet.

"I would never-"

"I know," he apologized, giving her a dimpled smile that she hesitantly returned. "I just mean that it's your truth to tell, Elizabeth. I didn't know Jason Quartermaine very well. His family disliked me before, so and I know their feelings are much harsher now." Shrugging, he slipped his hands into his pants pockets. "I do know Jason Morgan though, and he has a heart. It's a little cold and rough around the edges, but he's hurting, and he has no idea how to make it stop. And unfortunately, he can't change how he feels until he chooses to…And The most I can do isI promise to keep an eye on him until he makes that choice."

Her eyebrows arched. "You sound awfully hopeful about all of this – how it could turn out," she sniffled, her cheeks flushed.

"Despite what you may hear about me, I do believe in the good," he replied, grinning widely, "but don't go telling anyone I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me. I owe you that much. Besides it's good nice to hear that someone believes in the good when so many don't," she said, stepping out of the way when he moved past her to open the door. "Thank you again, Mr. Corinthos for understanding and, for giving me time." Pausing, she smoothed her hand over her stomach, and he could see the forming bulge beneath her shirt. "Something I know I don't have much of, but…I'll figure it out. I always do."

"If you need anything, anything at all, I want you to come to me," he replied seriously, following her into the hallway outside his office. "And Elizabeth?"

"Yeah?" she asked, nervously glancing nervously at the guard outside his door.

He couldn't imagine how difficult all of this was for her to understand, especially if she wanted some kind of future where Jason was involved with this child. That worried him most – that she wouldn't be able to accept the life he'd chosen, but sometimes he wondered if she _would_, and if that was why Jason was so damn frustrated with her.

"Call me, Sonny."


	4. Chapter 4

**[Prompt - Nothing hurts more than realizing he meant everything to you, but you meant nothing to him. – Unknown]**

**Chapter 4**

_A few days after Christmas_

"It's nice to have you to myself," Elizabeth murmured, threading her fingers through Jason's, short, messy, blonde hair. His skin was cool beneath her touch, not warm or lively in the way she remembered. "I guess your family decided to take a break, which means they are probably badgering AJ."

Sighing, she sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her husband's hand into her lap. She gently traced his fingers before lacing their hands together, squeezing tightly in hopes that he just might squeeze back.

"I hope that you aren't angry that I visit your brother. Your parents and grandfather haven't said a bad word to me, but I can see it in their eyes. They don't understand how I feel about AJ – that I know there's some good in there somewhere." She squeezed his hand again, her eyes filling with tears. "I want to hate him, Jason. I want to be as cruel as everyone else, but I can't. I know that despite what happened, he would have never wanted to hurt you, and – and that he didn't want you to go after him."

Sniffling, she hung her head as if to keep him from seeing the tears that slipped down her cheeks. "You didn't want to go after him either, and if I wouldn't have asked…I know it's stupid – that you would never blame me, but I – I asked you to go."

She gently let go of his hand to wipe at her cheeks, embarrassed at the idea of his family finding her like this. Each of them were being so strong, so together, and they'd only shed tears upon initially hearing about the accident, but she supposed their misplaced emotions with AJ wereas enough of a distraction.

"I keep thinking about how Christmas should have been," she murmured, cupping his cheek, his skin so warm beneath her palm, yet there wasn't the slightest sign of life. "How I would have given you the stocking and you would have found the baby rattle tucked inside. From the momentEver since I found out, I wanted to tell you, but I was – I _am_ nervous. Part of me still doesn't feel ready, and I – I don't know if I can do it without you, Jason."

"Everything I've ever done – the good, the bad, the ugly, the hard – you've been there. You've always believed in me -; especially when it came to my art and my decisions. I don't know how to have this baby – I can't imagine you not being here. You're so patient and so understanding – this baby needs you. I just – everyone keeps talking about how this could end. The doctors, your family, even AJ – no one has hope, and I think it's because you're the one thing that gave us all that, and without it – without you -, we don't know what to do."

"It's only been a few days, but it feels like months, and no one thinks you're going to wake up." Her lip quivered as she leaned over, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth as she started to cry. "But I know you, Jason. You're not going to go anywhere. It doesn't matter how long it takes or how hard it's going to be – I'll wait, and we'll get through this because I know you'll come back to me."

She nuzzled the side of his face as she shifted on the bed, drawing her legs up beside him, and doing her best to curl against his side. It felt strange not to feel his arm around her, not to feel him holding her and comforting her like he often did.

"You'll come back to me and this baby," she whispered softly, refusing to break down completely. She wasn't trying to be strong like everyone else; she just wanted to be strong for him. He needed her to believe in him because no one else did.

**********

"If he looks over here one more fucking time, I'm going to shove that beer bottle so far up his-"

"Brenda," Elizabeth warned quietly, lifting her eyes up from the dirty bar to glare at her best friend.

"He just wants to get a reaction out of you," she continued, poking around in a bowl of bar nuts. "Always standing around and looking and-"

"Please," she begged, wrapping her hands around her short glass of Caffeine Free Diet Coke. She was thankful that she'd arrived at Jake's before Brenda, and further relieved when Coleman dutifully promised to keep her whiskey glass filled with the decaffeinated beverage, and not let anyone else in on their secret.

She could have sworn there was a slight twinkle in the bartender's eye as she slipped a fifty across the bar to seal their deal, and she hoped if he actually assumed anything he would honor her secret.

Thankfully, Brenda stuck strictly to fruity drinks, having always teased Elizabeth about her craving for whiskey, so there was no need to worry about the brunette taking a sip and discovering the cola.

Eventually, she would have to confess the truth to Brenda, and probably sooner rather than later. The last thing Elizabeth wanted was to hurt her feelings, especially when she was the only true friend she had left. Even when his family had given up, Brenda believed in Jason as much as Elizabeth had, and proved to be an even better friend than she could have imagined. She'd been there constantly throughout this entire ordeal and would have never left the hospital had Elizabeth not insisted she was okay.

But that was another quality she admired about Brenda. She knew when to come close and hold on tightly as well as when to step away and allow Elizabeth to breathe.

Only lately, she'd been tired of allowing Elizabeth to breathe, insisting that the two have a girl's night out and try to enjoy what good they had in their lives. This was easy for the former model, wife of billionaire entrepreneur, Jasper Jax. The two used to never worry about money, mishaps, or their future, but Jason's accident had taught them a lot about how easy it was to lose what mattered most.

"I know that Tony said this was going to be normal behavior for a while, but seriously…" Brenda trailed off when Elizabeth lifted her tear-filled eyes to her face. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. I just – I hate this."

"I know," Elizabeth murmured, shrugging halfheartedly as she sipped her Coke, pretending to taste whiskey because then maybe she'd relax just a little bit.

The two often came to Jake's when they went out together. It was low-key, seedy, and extremely dirty, which was probably why it was so appealing to two A-typical good girls. It was the last place anyone expected to find them, and their husbands were always teasing them about their poor taste in establishments.

Elizabeth should have known it would be just the kind of place Jason Morgan would attach himself to, and she was getting used to running into him in all sorts of places; the diner, the docks, the main street of town. Hell, she'd even ended up next to him on his motorcycle at a red light the other day, butand he always ignored her, which was better than being forced to tears.

She tried her best to be patient when he goaded her, knowing it was just like Dr. Jones predicted. Jason was going to be as angry, aslike a rebellious teenage boy, and if he realized he was hurting someoneyou, he'd probably continue because the reaction did something for him. So every time, he was snide and spiteful, she turned up her chin and tried her damndest to look away because not letting him hurt her was hurting him in some way.

Or at least she hoped.

"Your anniversary is coming up," Elizabeth said, desperate to change the subject, especially when some skinny blonde sauntered up to her ex-husband, grabbed his hand, and tugged him towards the pool table.

Turning the other cheek was not something Brenda Barrett was particularly good at, and the high class model had no problem telling Jason Morgan that he was the biggest son of a bitch to ever exist in all of Port Charles.

To be fair, Elizabeth knew that was Brenda's way of dealing with the aftermath of the accident. Jason had been her closest and best friend, had even introduced the two of them, and like everyone else, she struggled with who Jason had become, especially when she had believed in him as much as Elizabeth.

"Yeah, Jax has some meetings in Manhattan that weekend, so it looks like there's no celebration until the following week," she replied glumly, rolling her eyes as if to say that was how it was for the wife of a rich, business man. "I think we're going to Paris again, but he won't confirm anything."

"Paris sounds wonderful," Elizabeth said, envious that her friend would get out of town for a little while and away from all this.

"You know," Brenda chirped, nudging her with her elbow, "you could take some of that money Jason gave you and leave town. Travel a bit, just like you two always planned."

Elizabeth frowned, tired of everyone bringing up the money that Jason Morgan had bought her off with, especially when she wouldn't have considered keeping it had it not been for the baby. It was going to remain untouched in every way that wasn't related to caring for her child because she refused to spend a dime of that dirty money on herself. She wouldn't even save it for the baby had she not spend hours and hours dwelling on the simple fact that Jason Quartermaine would want his child to be looked after and to have everything it needed and wanted.

Clearing her throat, hoping Brenda would pick up on her distaste for the subject of traveling sans Jason, she tossed her curls over her shoulder and looked around the bar, not surprised to find Jason leaning against the jukebox, his eyes on her. It didn't matter where she saw him; he always looked at her so angrily, like the mere sight of her disgusted himer, and tonight he obviously felt like she had stepped into his territory.

One of excessive amounts of booze and whatever woman he felt like attaching himself to at the bar – firsthand accounts of the Quartermaines experiences with post-accident Jason, everyone feeling the need to harp on him for being a drunk manwhore, a path so similar to his brother's that it terrified them. Elizabeth did her best to ignore what they said about Jason; desperate to pretend that the idea of him being with another woman – let, let alone looking at one so desirably, made didn't make her stomach churn.

"I'm going to close our tab," Elizabeth said, sliding off the stool when the blonde appeared at his side, and he pressed an open mouth kiss on her lips, tossing his head towards the doorway that led upstairs.

"It's still early," Brenda griped, digging through her purse for her cell phonecell phone for her purse. "I'll call Jax, see if he's at the hotel."

"And maybe we can go have a drink there," she offered, not wanting to go home and wallow in self-pity.

The saucy brunette grinned, her eyes lighting up as she dialed her husband's number and hurried ,towardshurried towards the hallway, away from the loud bar.

Elizabeth started towards the opposite end of the bar where Coleman was talking to a customer, hoping to cash out in a hurry, and pretend this night never existed. Unfortunately, the moment her heels touched the floor, her stomach churned in an all too familiar way, and she was trotting towards the bathroom, her hand clasped over her mouth, knowing there was no way she was going to make it to the bathroom in time. Thankfully, there was a garbage can in the hallway and she gripped the sides, ignoring how sticky they were as she hung her head and vomited, lifting it to find Jason glaring at her, practically sneering in amusement.

**********

Jason would have never imagined that Elizabeth frequented a place as shady as Jake's, and had he known such a fact, he would have never made himself so comfortable in the bar. It was too late to make changes; he'd already rented a room, befriend the customers – especially the women - , and it was sort of his makeshift home.

Sonny didn't like the idea of him spending his time at a bar like Jake's because it usually lead to too many beers and bar fights, and his boss basically had a tab for Jason's mishaps. Coleman didn't seem to mind as long as the man's fists weren't flying at his face, and he always told Sonny that, the men Jason fought usually asked for it, and Jason wondered if he said it simply because he was as afraid of Jason Morgan as everyone else.

Everyone except Elizabeth and her little girlfriend, Brenda Barrett.

He didn't know which was the more annoying of the brunetteslondes; at least Elizabeth backed off, while Brenda rattled on and on about what a fucker he was for hurting her friend, that he was a disgrace to the Quartermaine namesake. Not that he cared; Elizabeth and the Quartermaines were nothing, and he didn't understand why they had to act like he was something.

Both women had been watching him all night, especially Elizabeth, even though she tried to pretend she wasn't, and he could see the disdain that flickered across his ex-wife's face as he floated around the bar. Disdain that turned to disgust, the stomach churning kind, which forced her to stick her head in a dirty garbage can because he knew it wasn't the liquor. He'd been watching Coleman make her drinks all night, wondering how a girl so small could handle so much whiskey and Coke, and he quickly realized it was nothing more than Cola., Hand he was amused that Elizabeth believed she was pulling a fast one on everyone around her.

The only question was why she wasn't drinking, though he knew he should be thankful because the last thing he needed was some loaded basket case bitching him out for not being her husband.

"Too much to drink?" he smirked, leaning against the doorway that split the bar from the hallway, waiting impatiently for the blonde he'd met in the bar to come out of the ladies room.

Why women felt the need to freshen up before he took them upstairs he had no idea. He didn't care about her hair or her lipstick because he was going to mess both of them up the second they were alone.

"I guess so," she muttered softly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she tossed her curls out of her face.

It was a shame that he was so disgusted by Elizabeth. He hated the idea of letting such an attractive woman go to waste; perfectly small frame with shapely legs and breasts that were bigger than he remembered, but probably because they were pushed up in the dress she was wearing. She didn't dress like most women who came to Jake's; the straps of her dress were wide, and it was fitted at the top, belling out and flowing across her thighs, leaving any guy who looked at her to imagine what was underneath.

"Excuse me," she huffed, taking a deep breath when he continued to block the doorway. "For someone who wanted sto badly to get rid of me, you really can't seem to let go."

"Oh, trust me," he retorted, chuckling under his breath. "I let go of you in every possible way."

"Right," she grunted, narrowing her eyes at him. "Because you're so interested in whatever whore you pick up that you can't take your eyes off me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey," he muttered, looking past her as Carly came out of the restroom. "I have to go. I've got some company to attend tocompany."

Elizabeth arched her eyebrow as she glanced over her shoulder. "I hope she realizes that you're just using her."

"Maybe she wants to be used," he replied, brushing past her to where the blonde waited at the foot of the steps. "She's not some uptight, little bit-"

"A whore is a still just a whore," she Elizabeth interrupted, turning around in the doorway, her face hard.

"What did you say?" Carly spoke up, folding her arms over her chest as she stepped forward.

"Don't," Jason said, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against him as he stared Elizabeth in the face. He dipped his nose into Carly's hair, nuzzling the side of her face as he smoothed his hand down the thigh of her tight jeans, smirking when the brunette's lower lip started to quiver. "Elizabeth's nothing. She's not _worth_ the trouble."


	5. Chapter 5

**[Prompt - ****A true friend walks in, when the rest of the world walks out. – Anonymous]**

**Chapter 5**

_New Year's Eve_

"I thought I'd find you here." Elizabeth stiffened in the chapel pew at the sound of her brother-in-law's voice. She didn't look over as he slid onto the wooden bench, slipping his arm over the back so that his fingertips barely grazed her shoulder. "Lila's the only one in my family that will go near a church in any form unless it's for a funeral. Grandpa always says if they go in all at once, the roof will cave in, but if someone's dead, God has too much respect to do such a thing."

The brunette's mouth curved at the corner, and AJ leaned over to poke her in the side. "I knew I could make you smile." He left his hand against her shoulder as he slumped down in the pew. "So what are we asking the big guy for today?"

"AJ," she sighned, tipping her head towards him, a strained smile on her face. He'd been hanging around the hospital more than usual, bringing her hot chocolates and takeout from Kelly's, and doing his damnedest to make sure she was comfortable and had everything she needed.

He was doing more than necessary as if trying to do everything he could before she realized this was his fault and suddenly pushed him away. He was too caught up in blaming himself to realize that she was carrying thea weight of the blame, and as cruel as it made her, she was relieved to have someone to wallow with.

"We're all asking for the same thing," he said seriously, the twinkle in his eye fading when he saw how much she was hurting. "We all want him back. I – I want to be able to tell my brother I'm sorry."

"I know," she whispered, leaning into the crook of his arm and resting her head on his shoulder. It was strange to her that she found solace in the arms of the person that everyone blamed. Tension was growing thicker by the hour with the Quartermaines, and Edward had barely been able to bite his tongue that morning when AJ stepped off the elevator with Elizabeth. He'd muttered about her loyalties, about the depth of her love for her husband, and how she was forsaking everything their marriage was built on. The crotchety asshole knew nothing, but she'd just turned around and walked away, leaving AJ to argue with them.

She wished they could understand that she wanted to hate AJ. – Sthat she wanted to look at him and see the son of a bitch who had taken her husband,, but all she just couldn't. So she kept telling herself that Jason would understand and he'd forgive her just as he would forgive his brother.

"He's going to be okay," AJ replied, tightening his arm around her. "And when he wakes up, he's going to know that you were the one person who believed him – that you didn't give up like everyone else."

"You know what Dr. Jones said?" she asked softly, curling her fingers into his polo shirt. It surprised her how serious AJ became after the accident.

He was facing charges for drunk driving, possibly even more for what he'd done to his brother, and instead of falling apart like Alan and Edward were insisting he would, he kept it together. As far as Elizabeth knew (and she'd checked in with Coleman at Jake's and the bartenders at the Metro Court and Port Charles Grille), he hadn't so much as touched a bottle of liquor since the accident. Granted, it had only been a week, but it was something for AJ, and she wished his family would see that he was trying.

She could tell in the way his knee shook and his hand sometimes trembled that he was itching for a drinking, that he craved the numbness that would make him forget what he'd done. And instead, he was sitting quietly at the hospital, and he would have been at Jason's bedside had the Quartermaines not forbidden him to go near himJason. While she was his wife and technically had a say in her husband's visitors, she wasn't brave enough to fight Jason's family, and thankfully AJ understood that.

"Yeah, I went to see Lila this afternoon," he replied, swallowing hard as he stared up at the wooden cross on the wall. "She's heartbroken – probably more than anyone else besidesexcept you, and she told me that they don't think he's going to wake up. _Ever_."

"They're running more tests right now," Elizabeth said, trying to ignore how he emphasized ever, how final it sounded, and how it made her want to die on that very bench. "Limited brain activity, which leads Tony to believe…"

"It's okay," he whispered, pulling her against him when she started to cry.

She had been so strong until this point, so full of hope, so damn sure that her husband would never leave her, but Jason no longer had a choice in the matter. His body was winning, and she had no idea how she would move on without him.

"I'm so tired of this," she murmured, burying her face in his shirt. "They keep talking like he's already gone, like he left the moment the car smashed into the tree, and – and I…I have to believe that he's going to be okay."

"You're his wife," he said, smoothing his hand up and down her back as she cried softly against his chest. "You're supposed to believe in him, to think that he'll be okay, and well, the Quartermaines always see the worst in everything. It doesn't matter what it is. They don't know how to deal with something like this."

"I just don't understand it," she hissed angrily, sniffling as she pulled herself out of his arms and looked at him. "He's their son, their baby boy, and they just – it's the same with you. It's like they are so detached from reality. Edward spent all morning handling things for ELQ, constantly telling people on the other line that his grandsons had been in an unfortunate accident, and business was going to be complicated for a while. It was like he was more concerned with business. And Alan and Monica are already working again – back in surgery. When they talk about Jason, they usetalk in the past tense, AJ. It's like they're already letting go."

"I think," he started, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some tissues that she knew he had stashed there for this reason. "I think, they just want to continue on with their lives. If they sit and wait, the sadness and the ache will fester. It's the same reason why you can't sit in that room with him, but you stay at the hospital. The only difference is that Jason is your life, and you don't know how to move on without that."

"He's everything," she whispered, slumping forward and cradling her head in her hands. "Everything." She chewed her lip and dropped a hand to her middle, tightening it around her waist and hoping that AJ wouldn't understand what exactly she was trying to comfort. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Well, you'll keep doing what you've been doing all along," AJ replied, scooting over and pulling her into his arms again. "Only I won't let you do it alone."

**********

Brenda Barrett had dealt with her fair share of assholes, only she was usually capable of bringing them to their knees with the snap of her fingers. All except Jason Morgan, which only made him get even further under her skin, especially when it came to Elizabeth.

So many times in the past few months she had attempted to place herself in her best friend's shoes, but the idea of losing Jax in such a way was unthinkable. She always imagined that if something happened and she had to lose Jax – if they split up or lost their way, she'd want nothing more than complete happiness for her husband.

Only now, she knew if he was ever in a coma and faced the possibility of waking up as anyone but himself – a total fucking asshole who treated everyone who ever loved him like shit – she'd pull the damn plugcord before he had a chance to open his eyes.

Okay, maybe she wouldn't, but she'd contemplate it because she wasn't sure she was strong enough to go through the kind of heartache Elizabeth was dealing with at this very moment.

The tiny brunette had shriveled up inside herself after the accident, consumed by grief, sadness, and sometimes enougha little anger that it drove her to basically stop living. Jason Quartermaine had been her life – the only one she'd ever known, and Elizabeth had no idea how to go on without that, especially when she saw his face everywhere she went.

It never failed for Jason Morgan to make an appearance at the wrong time, just like he had at the bar, and the fucker never failed to rub his presence in his ex-wife's face. He was always there, sneering and gloating at Elizabeth, practically begging her to give him attention. And somehow, Elizabeth always managed to find herself talking to him, and he always left her in tears.

She tried time and time again to convince her friend to stand up to him, to knee Jason between the legs and explain how you talked to a _real_ woman, but Elizabeth just shrugged it off, always saying that he wasn't Jason Quartermaine, and she couldn't expect him to be nice to her. She'd heard the speech so many times that she could repeat it verbatim, only something about tonight had been different.

When she'd come back into the bar after calling Jax to meet them for drinks at the hotel, Elizabeth had been cornered in the doorway, Jason looming over her with his latest trick on his arm, and when Elizabeth walked away, it was in a rush of fury that Brenda couldn't ever remember seeing. She was in the parking lot and in a cab before Brenda could stop her, and she knew that something inside the poor girl had broke.

Taking a deep breath, she told herself not to get upset, not to go into the bar and grab Jason by his balls, and beat him so hard that Coleman had to call an ambulance, instead choosing to get into another cab and follow after her.

Oh, the things she did for her best friend.

She knew immediately where Elizabeth was going; that she would head back to her studio that was acting as an apartment because she'd yet to find a new place to liven apartment after Jason threw her out on her ass. Brenda had called him on that too, and he'd pointed out that he was nice enough to pack for her, and then Jax had to grab her by her waist and drag her away because she was prepared to scratch his eyes out.

Unlike Elizabeth, she couldn't tell herself that he wasn't Jason Quartermaine; her childhood best friend and accomplice in all the crazy things she'd ever done. Logically, she knew the truth, but her emotions got in the way, and she saw how he was clearly out to ruin everything that his former self had created. She could have taken the lost memory if he'd at least had respect for the people waiting for him when he'd woken up, but Jason Morgan didn't have respect for anything.

Unless you counted Sonny Corinthos, but she wasn't even going to touch the fact that he now worked for a well-known mobster.

"Thirty bucks," the cab driver muttered, pulling into the alley behind Elizabeth's behind, and Brenda hurried to throw the money over the seat. She tipped too much by about twenty bucks, and he was lucky to get one at all considering he'd been playing with the rearview mirror so he could look at her legs and breasts the whole ride.

She slipped out of the cab, slamming the door behind her and hurryingied for the back entrance of the building, relieved to find it when it was unlocked. Her stomach was churning and her hands were tremblingtrembled as she headed for Elizabeth's studio, too convinced that something was wrong.

**********

_Elizabeth's nothing. She's not worth the trouble. _

"Selfish, son of a bitch," she hissed, flinging a canvas across the room and kicking the easel to the floor. She clenched her fists as she stalked around the room, desperate for something to break and smash, something that would hurt him as much as he hurt her.

Except there was nothing, and that only infuriated her even more.

She promised herself she would never lose faith in Jason -; wouldto always see the good and to be thankful that he'd simply survived the accident, but tonight had been too much. She was through pretending that they could be civil and act as though they weren't former lovers, and that she wasn't carrying his child.

She was fucking finished with Jason Morgan completely.

Sniffling, she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, her gaze settling on a silver picture frame on the counter – her favorite wedding photo. Without so much as a second thought, she brought her closed fist against the glass, pounding it until the glass cracked and shattered beneath her hand. It felt good; the sound of the glass, the way the tiny pieces dug into her fists, and she continued to beat on it, screaming that she hated him, until she felt someone behind her, pulling her away.

"Elizabeth, stop. You're hurting yourself."

Brenda's voice sounded so far away – so foreign -, and Elizabeth almost didn't believe she was there, until she tried to pull away, desperate to continue fighting the glass.

"I hate him," she sobbed, jerking in her friend's arms as Brenda tightened her hold, murmuring softly in her ear that it was okay, to let it all out. "I fucking hate him. I don't want to see him. I don't want to talk to him. I just…I wish…" She slumped to the floor in defeat, Brenda doing her best to keep her from collapsing completely as, and they she ended up on the floor below her, Elizabeth half sitting in her lap. "Nothing. I'm _nothing_ to him, Brenda, and the worst part is that it's true. He fucking hates me when I didn't do a damn thing."

"I know. You didn't do anything wrong, Elizabeth," she said firmly, smoothing a hand over Elizabeth's messy curls. "You were there for him, but he doesn't understand it." She ran her hand gently down her side, trying to smooth the sadness out, and sucked in a breath when her hand grazed Elizabeth's hip and the brunette jerked away, her hands falling to her stomach. "Oh, Elizabeth."

"Shut up," she hissed, rushing to her feet, her hands fisted in her dress, the faint outline of her small, swollen belly peeking through the material. "Don't say anything, Brenda. I don't want to hear it. I don't – you – I – it's not supposed to be this hard." She turned away when a low sob burst from her lips and smashed her hand against the picture frame again, barely noticing the blood that her fist left behind on the glass. "I fucking _hate_ him. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Honey, I know," Brenda whispered, stumbling to her feet, obviously thrown off by the realization that her friend wasn't only grieving for that son of a bitch, but that she was pregnant by him too.

Elizabeth raised her fist and started to hit the picture again, but Brenda grabbed her, gently pulling her away., Tand the moment she wrapped her arms around her friend, Elizabethshe gave in completely and fell apart in her arms. Every sobbed was so deep, from a place that should never hurt, and it sounded like they were being ripped from her throat, torn from her body in the most painful of ways.

"I wish," she Elizabeth choked out raggedly, "I wish he'd never woken up."


	6. Chapter 6

**[Prompt – When you lose yourself, you don't know what's worse: the person you were before being gone forever... or finding yourself all over again.]**

**Chapter 6**

_New Year's Day_

"It's not as uncommon as you might think for a woman to bleed during her pregnancy," Dr. Kelly Lee said, stripping the rubber gloves off her hands and tossing them into a garbage can. "Less stress and more rest can help, but…well, looking at your situation, it feels cruel to tell you to rest and not stress out, but as your doctor, I have to, Elizabeth."

"I understand," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ears as she stared down at the cold tile. "I'm trying…rReally, I am."

"Not that it's any of my business," the doctor muttered, scribbling in her chart, "but it would help if his family wasn't so hard on you."

"I know," she agreed, sliding off the bed and grabbing her folded jeans from the chair by the door. Carefully, she tugged them on, trying to ignore the constant cramping in her lower belly. "I've been doing my best to avoid them. They don't like what I do or how I'm handling this, and I feel the same way about them…"

"And when you meet, the world collides," Kelly sighed, shaking her head in disgust. She turned away when Elizabeth reached for her shirt, continuing to write in the chart. "Just remember to take it as easy as possible. Keep your feet up. Take deep breaths. Or just tell them to leave you the hell alone."

"I will," she murmured, slipping the scratchy gown over her head and tossing it down on the bed. She fumbled with her bra and sweater as the doctor continued to gently give orders, something she was becoming all too used to.

"If the spotting continues, I wouldn't worry much unless it's a lot and the cramping worsens. Either way, if you're worried, don't hesitate to give me a call," she said, turning around and handing Elizabeth a piece of paper with a number on it. "That's my cell. I'm available whenever you need me, okay?"

"I don't need any special treatment," Elizabeth replied, slipping her feet into her shoes. Dr. Lee had gone out of her way to keep their appointments quiet, even filing Elizabeth into the hospital system as another patient. She understood her desire to be discreet and protect herself from the Quartermaines and was willing to do anything that Elizabeth asked.

The doctor waved the paper at the patient until she took it. "Thank you," she grinned, satisfied. "And one more thing, Elizabeth." The brunette sighed and sank into a chair, not sure if she wanted to hear what Kelly was going to tell her. "Maybe you should tell someone – not necessarily the Quartermaines, but a friend. You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

"I know," she whispered, clasping her shaky hands in her lap. "I have – I have one last question."

"Okay, shoot," she ordered, sitting down in the chair across from her.

"Well, I just – I'm trying to be realistic about this – about the pregnancy and Jason's accident," Elizabeth said slowly, her stomach churning in protest of what she was about to say. "I know it's only been a week, but the doctors aren't hopeful about his recovery. And I can have all the hope in the world, but that won't bring him back to me."

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat. "And I'm basically broke – I paint pictures that sell maybe once or twice a year. I don't know if I have the means, let alone the heart, to do this by myself."

"I see," Kelly replied, her eyes widening.

"I know it sounds crazy," she said, her eyes filling with tears, "but I just don't know if I can do this. I have friends that would support me, and the Quartermaines would want this baby more than anything, but I…"

"You want to explore other options depending on what happens to Jason," the OB filled in, her eyes softening when Elizabeth nodded. "Don't you dare feel guilty for that. You have a right to deal with your pregnancy as you see fit, okay?" She nodded again, looking anything but convinced. "And you don't really have to decide anything soon, unless you want to term – terminate the pregnancy – the earlier the better for that. But there's also adoption, which would allow here you the option ofcould choosingse the family that would raise your child."

She nodded one last time and hung her head when she started to cry.

"Elizabeth, you're not the first woman to feel this way," she said, scooting her chair closerover to her. KellyShe reached out and placed a hand on her knee, giving it a firm squeeze. "And you won't be the last. I'll get you some pamphlets, and you can read over them, and when you're ready, you can call me and we'll talk."

"Okay," she replied, forcing a smile through her tears as she got up from the chair and grabbed her purse.

"I have some stuff in my office," Kelly said, motioning her towards the door. She quietly followed her into the hallway, doing her best to wipe away her tears and hide her flushed face. "I can give them to you now."

"Alright, and if I haven't said it enough, thank you for…" Elizabeth trailed off her, her hands falling instinctively to her stomach when she saw her brother-in-law standing in the hallway. "AJ…"

**********

"What'd you do to your hand?" Sonny asked, flashing a dimpled smile as he slid ointo one of the stools at the counter of the diner.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, setting a cup of coffee in front of him and filling it with decaf, a routine that had almost become too regular in the past few days.

"This is my third morning in a row that I've come for coffee," the mobster teased, arching his eyebrow at her as he stirred cream into his mug. "And you've yet to tell me-"

"I didn't realize I _had_ to tell you anything," she interrupted, handing him a menu.

Sonny chuckled under his breath as he skimmed the menu. "I knew there was some spunk in you somewhere." He eyed her hand pointedly, and she tapped her pencil against her pad of paper. "Alright, alright. I'll have a cheeseburger."

"It's ten a.m., Sonny," she replied, rolling her eyes as she scribbled down his order.

Of course, only Sonny was actually able to order a burger during breakfast hours and get by with it. The funny part was that it had nothing to do with the fact that he was a mobster – his father just owned the place.

"My father treating you well?" he asked, sipping his coffee as she turned around to hang up his order.

"Yeah," she replied, sliding her paper and pencil back into her apron. "He's been too good to me."

At Brenda's coaxing, she'd moved out of her studio, but not into anything lavish. She'd simplyjust rented a room above the diner from Mike, telling herself she had time to get a bigger place, something large enough for two. She hadn't filled the diner owner in on her condition, but something told her, his son had, and she wanted to be angry at Sonny, only she couldn't.

The pressure lessened the moment that Brenda discovered the truth, and to know that people actually cared and wanted to help, made Elizabeth feel so much more at ease about the pregnancy than she ever had. It allowed her to focus less on how complicated her life had become and more on actually beginning to start to enjoy it.

Before the accident, so much of her life had revolved around Jason. She was his wife; the woman on his arm at social events, in his kitchen, the one who did his laundry, and took him to bed. In many ways she'd filled that cliché role that she told herself she never would, and the very moment that she lost him, she didn't know what to do with herself.

With Jason in a hospital bed, her life became about sitting beside him, waiting for him to open his eyes and speak, and that hadn't worked out quite like she imagined. She lost a large part of herself in the man that Jason Quartermaine became, and she was going to have to work hard at getting that back, at finding herself.

Every day was another step towards _her_ future, and though it was nothing like she imagined, she was starting to enjoy it. She would just have to take it one day at a time.

There was something so simple and genuine about Kelly's that she'd overlooked for most of the time she lived in Port Charles. The customers were the same; so dependent on that morning cup of coffee and a little conversation with whoever was behind the counter. In just a few weeks, she'd grown into the restaurant, the people, and especially the greasy food. She liked the idea of being a part of their day as much as they were a part of hers, even if she never crossed their mind outside the walls of the tiny restaurant.

Mike was always telling her to take it easy and not work so hard, but she shrugged her boss off, telling him she liked to stay busy. She was starting to wonder how she ever went for so long without doing something all the time.

Between work, Brenda's hovering, and a wonderful gift from her best friend's husband, her life was slowly falling into place. Brenda was constantly hounding her about rest and relaxation, offering her money and a place to stay since she was so determined to touch as little of Jason's money as possible, butand Elizabeth always gave her a firm no, which thankfully Brenda understood. That didn't mean her friend was going to sit back and do nothingnot doing something for her friend – she and Jax had paid for a Spring full of art classes at the community center, knowing that painting was the closest to relaxing that Elizabeth was going to come.

Brenda wasn't going to tell her husband about the pregnancy, but Elizabeth had insisted that she did, not wanting her best friend to keep a secret from the most important person in her life. Like Brenda, Jax promised to stay mum about everything, but wished that Elizabeth would let him do more.

It was nice to know that she had people waiting in the wings should she fail miserably at independence and motherhood. Independence came rather easy, even if it was in the form of a tiny room above a diner – at least Mike let her redecorate the way she wanted. She had her own place, her own money, as well as her art, so there was no doubt in her mind that she wasn't going to make it.

However, motherhood still scared the living hell out of her.

When she and Jason first discussed the idea of the having a baby, they were nothing more than newlyweds, and he understood her apprehensions. And now that she was actually having a baby, they were…_nothing_, and she still wasn't sure how she would have this child without him, but she only knew that she had to. Her child was all that was left from who she used to be, from the love she and her husband made, and it deserved to exist in some form. The baby was really all that was left of her hope – her child meant that things could still work out for her, that she could have the life she once dreamt of with Jason, only he wouldn't be a part of it.

That was the hardest thought of all – to have some form of their dreams come true without having him there to share it with, but she knew that he would be proud of her for being so damned determined make things work. Only he'd probably have loads to say about her being so spent on saving his money. The simple thought of him nagging her, scolding her in a way so playful made her smile and long for him, but she was doing her best to let go.

Holding onto Jason Quartermaine meant holding onto Jason Morgan, and neither of them were obtainable, so it was better if she just moved on. She trusted that Sonny would look out for him and keep him from really hurting himself, and, despite everything, she believed in Jason – believed that he wouldn't do something stupid, something that would take his own life.

Frowning, she stared down at the bandage on the side of her hand, picking nervously at the tape, and cringing at the thought of the four stitches beneath it. Her anger, resentment, and sadness had gotten the best of her, and she'd done something stupid, something that could have hurt her and her child.

And secretly, she didn't regret it, regardless of how crazy that made her sound – not that she was going to tell anyone the truth. That it felt _good_ – to break something, to hurt something as much as Jason was hurting her, even if it was herself. For that brief moment, she'd felt free, like nothing could touch her or make her feel worse than she already feltdid, and she didn't want to think of how badly it could have turned out had Brenda not shown up.

"Still not going to tell me?" Sonny asked, flashing his dimples as she slid his cheeseburger in front of him.

"I punched some glass," she replied, not really sure why she was telling him.

"Ah, I see," he muttered, shaking his head. "I heard about the other night at Jake's."

"If I didnon't know any better, I'd say you were keeping tabs on me," she said, folding her arms over her chest. She'd just found some form of freedom, and she wasn't going to let Sonny Corinthos, of all people, take it from her. "And I didn't ask for your help-"

"Hey, I'm doing nothing of the sort," he interrupted defensively, wagging his finger at her. "I keep tabs on Jason, not you, and I know that you two had some kind of confrontation."

"Oh," she replied quietly, "I just assumed…"

"I have no intentions of keeping an eye on you, unless you want me to," he said seriously, grinning when she shook her head. "I didn't think you did. I'm doing my best to keep Jason busy and away from you, but he seems to find-"

"Me," she cut in, her face hardening. She hadn't seen him since that night at Jake's, which either meant that he was busy doing dangerous things for his boss, or worse, Brenda had hunted him down and really gone off.

"He likes the reaction," Sonny nodded, squirting mustard on his burger. "I've talked to him over and over about respecting you, about trying to understand you…"

"Don't do me any favors," she replied, looking up as the bell above the door rang and AJ stepped inside. "Look, I, uh, it's time for my break." She started to untie her apron, but stopped, knowing it was best to stay covered up. "I appreciate you looking after Jason, Sonny, especially since I asked you to, but it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't want me to care, and he'll never care about me, so…I can't even try to control him or try to, and if he wants a reaction, I'm going to do my best not to give him one."

"Elizabeth," he called out, his eyes following her as she started around the counter to her brother-in-law. She stopped long enough to look at him, agitated that he couldn't just let her walk away. "Next time, just punch a pillow, okay?"

Shaking her head, she grinned. "I'll try to remember that."


	7. Chapter 7

**[All children, except one, grow up. – Peter** **Pan]**

**Chapter 7**

_Mid-January _

"Elizabeth, are you sure about this?" AJ asked, tightening his hands around the steering wheel as his sister-in-law glared at the clinic looming on the opposite corner of the street.

"I – I don't know," she swallowed, pressing her head against the back of her seat, her trembling hand fussing with the lever on the side of her seatit. Taking a deep breath, she tilted the seat back and held her arm over her face. "I don't know what to do, AJ."

"I told you I would support your decision," he replied, turning off the ignition and turning towards her. "But this – Elizabeth, it's still early-"

"Dr. Jones said that Jason isn't going to wake up," she interrupted, dropping her arm from her face as tears streamed down her cheeks. "He isn't coming back. They want to move him to a permanent care facility or…" She couldn't bring herself to say the other option, the one that would prevent him from living as a vegetable. because Eeither was just too unbelievable. "I can't – I don't know how to do this alone."

"You aren't alone," he said softly, reaching over and gently swiping his thumb across her cheeks. "I'm here for you in whatever way you need. And you have Brenda-"

"Who is hardly aunt material," Elizabeth pointed out, hanging her head. "I don't have a job. I don't have a lot of money. And before you say anything, an American Express card with my husband's name on it hardly counts. I have an art degree, which will get me nowhere in this town, and I – I just – I don't even know if I'm ready for this."

"Well, you may not be," he shrugged, cupping her chin and forcing her to look at him. "But if you don't try…Look, I'm not trying to pressure you, Elizabeth, but this baby – you know, this may be all that's left of Jason. And I understand that you're afraid – of being a single mother, of doing this without him, and probably of the wrath that will ensue from our family, but…This baby – it could be the one good thing we have left. _For all of us, especially you_."

"I'm just scared," she murmured, slumping forward, and AJ did his best to lean over the console and pull her into his arms.

"We all are," he replied, smoothing a hand up and down her back, "but we don't have to allow that fear to control our lives. Jason may not be with us any longer, but we have to move on. And I – I really think you'll regret this one day. There's still a chance, Elizabeth. There's always going to be that chance he'll wake up, and I don't want you to carry guilt that heavy if he does."

"He would hate me," she said, pulling back to look at him, her cheeks flushed. "He would never forgive me."

"He would," AJ argued, smiling faintly. "He loved – he loves you more than anything. I know my brother. He would feel guilty that you felt like you _had_ to make this choice."

"Yeah," she nodded, slowly moving out of his arms, her chest heaving. "Let's go. I can't be here anymore."

"Alright," he replied, turning the ignition and pulling out of the parking space.

Elizabeth hung her head as they turned the corner at the clinic, her hands pressed against her belly as she whispered that she was sorry for even thinking about doing this, let alone having been driven here.

"You okay?" he asked, slowing down as the a traffic light flicked to red.

"I don't think – think I would have done it," she replied, closing her eyes as she leaned back against the seat, still clutching her stomach. "I couldn't even drive myself here. I think I needed to see it – to make it real. Does that sound crazy?"

"No," he answered, staring up at the stoplight, a tired smile on his face.

Obviously, he hadn't believed she would do it either.

**********

AJ slipped his hands into his jeans as he followed Elizabeth into her tiny efficiency apartment above the diner. It was strange to see her in a room so small with so little things, most he assumed were still packed away at her studio, and he couldn't hide that he disliked the idea of her being so cooped up.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she muttered, closing the door behind him. She fumbled with the tie on her apron, tore it over her head, and tossed it to the floor. "It's hot."

"It's not all that warm outside," he teased, frowning at a picture of her and Jason on the dresser that was missing the glass. It was one that used to sit on the mantle in their penthouse, one that he had probably tossed carelessly into a box when he kicked her out.

Brenda hadn't told him exactly what had happened a few nights ago, but she said that something in Elizabeth had broken, and that she had broken a lot of things in the process.

"You aren't pregnant," she replied, fanning out her shirt as she sat on the edge of the desk in the corner of the room.

"Very true," he said, arching an eyebrow at her. "And I'm not hiding it from everyone in town."

She dropped her gaze to the floor, continuing to pull at her shirt with one hand as she wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead with the other. She looked incredibly flustered, yet amazingly amazingly beautiful – the type of woman that pregnancy suited, but he didn't feel right telling her that. He'd learned his place long ago, stepping up rightfully behind his younger brother who claimed Elizabeth Webber the second Brenda brought her to the mansion.

"So…Sonny Corinthos?" he asked, knowing it was none of his business, but he felt like someone had to look after her. Jason Quartermaine would have expected that much, and the last person he'd want his wife around was some lowly criminal. Elizabeth continued to look at the floor, her cheeks flushing. "How much does he know?"

"He knows about the baby," she replied, clearing her throat as she lifted her gaze to his. "I asked him to look after Jason, keep him out of trouble-"

"Elizabeth, that's not your place," he interrupted, shaking his head in annoyance. Everyone else had let go of Jason, but she seemed stuck, unable to see who'd he become and how he'd _never_ be apart of her life. During the accident, she'd held onto hope unlike anyone else, but continuing to believe in him was only going to hurt her.

"He was my husband," she said, tightening her jaw and narrowing her eyes at him., her jaw tightening. "Everyone else may be able to walk around and act like Jason died, but he didn't. He's still alive and he's living, and though it's not with me, there is nothing wrong with me wanting the same things for him that I wanted before."

"And what's that exactly?" he challenged, surprised by his own anger, but he was used to feeling this way when it came to Jason. His brother was the Golden Boy; he got the career, the car, and the girl, and AJ was left with nothing.

"I just want him alive," she replied quietly, pushing herself away from the desk and walking over to the dresser. She dug through the top drawer and pulled out a clean apron. "I don't give a damn if he's with me or not, AJ. I just want him to be _alive_, and that is all I've wanted since the accident. He can hate me all he wants – that's fine, but at least he gets to have a life, and he's not in some care facility staring at the ceiling all day."

Hanging her head, she braced her hands against the dresser, and he knew he'd pushed her to the point of tears. Elizabeth was always the one person he never wanted to hurt – she was nice, understanding, always there, and whenever he upset her, he knew he'd gone too far. Even after all that had happened, She was the one lonely person in his corner, even after all that had happened, and he was terrified at the thought of losing her.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry," he sighed, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. "I know you want Jason to have a good life, and…that's all I want for you."

"I know," she nodded, tossing her curls out of her face and wiping her eyes. "And I'm working on that." Shrugging, she looked around the tiny room. "This is just the start."

"It's not half bad," he teased, nudging her with his arm. "I could get used to it."

"Good," she replied, slipping the clean apron over her head. "Because I want you to be a part of it. This baby may not have many people, but…"

"I want to be there," he said, his mouth going dry. "I've been thinking about you a lot and the baby."

"Me too," she muttered, her eyes lighting up as she smiled and reached around to tie the back of her apron. It was a nice change to see her excited with the possibilities this new life would bring instead of anticipating the possible failure that came with motherhood.

"I know I've messed up a lot, Elizabeth. That this is my fault-"

"It's not," she interrupted in a tone that he knew he shouldn't argue with.

"I want to fix things – my life, yours. And I think I'm going to go ahead with rehab and…." He trailed off, embarrassed to admit his faults to the one person who never saw them.

"AJ, that's wonderful," she grinned, smoothing her hands over the front of her apron. It was becoming painfully obvious that soon enough, she wouldn't be able to hide the bump. "Are you going to Shadybrooke or somewhere in the city?"

"Shadybrooke," he replied, raking a hand through his messy hair. "I want to be here if you need me. I can't see anyone for the first thirty days, so I want to be close in case you need me..."

"I won't need you," she said seriously, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "This is about you – taking care of yourself. Don't worry about me. Brenda is hovering like a crazed mother hen. I'll be fine."

"Well, I won't lie. I want to stay clean and sober – _for_ you and this baby," he replied thickly, knowing that at any moment she could banish him from her life, and he wouldn't be able to fight her. She had every right. "Not that you'll need the help, but the baby – well, we all need father figures in our lives, and I'm probably more screwed up than the rest, but…"

"But my baby is going to need a really good uncle in it's life," she muttered, looping her arm through his and pulling him towards the door, her silent way of saying it was time to get back to work. "And I'm glad it's you."

**********

"Are you ready to order?" Jason asked impatiently, pinching the bridge of his nose as he glared across the table at Johnny Zacchara.

Why the rich, little fuck just had to come to Kelly's he had no fucking idea, but one thing was for sure, they were ordering to go.

"The waitress hasn't come yet," he replied, rolling his eyes, clearly annoyed with the older man's bossiness.

Sonny had been right about Anthony's son. He was turning out to be more of a punk than Jason had bargained for; bar fights, speeding tickets, and theft – and that was just within his first forty-eight hours in Port Charles. Thankfully, Sonny understood Jason's impatience for the fucking kid, and he promised to pass him along to another guard as soon as the deal was arranged with his father. Once Anthony signed the paperwork and, made their deal official, it would be up to him to keep his kid out of trouble, and Sonny would have the authority to boss him around.

"BWell, be ready when she comes," he snarled, slapping his hand against the table. "And we're getting it to go."

"Dude, Morgan, what's your problem?" Johnny asked, dropping the menu on the table. "Your're ex-girlfriend work here or something?"

"You better have your fucking order ready," he replied, looking over Johnny's shoulder when a familiar laugh came from the back of the restaurant.

"Oh, she does," he smirked, far too cocky for Jason's liking. "Did she dump you? Or was it mutual? And what are my chances?"

"She wouldn't take a second glance at you if she was paid," he muttered, clenching his jaw when Elizabeth appeared at the foot of the stairs at the back of the diner, his former older brother on her arm. His fists clenched, almost on instinct, when AJ leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead before disappearing through the back of the restaurant. "Son of a bitch."

"She's here, isn't she?" Johnny asked, chuckling under his breath. "I know you haven't worked for Sonny that long, but your reputation is that you don't sweat."

"So," he grunted, shaking his head when Elizabeth started towards them, her knees buckling slightly when her eyes settled on their table.

"I think you need a napkin," he replied, tossing one across the table.

Jason ignored him, his eyes on Elizabeth's as she slipped a pad of paper from her pocket and made her way over. The pencil in her hand shook as she approached, and he wondered if she'd throw up again this time. He hadn't seen her since Jake's – was making a point not to, especially when Sonny said something about that night. Normally, he would have disliked being followed, but he knew his boss was only looking out for him.

"Are you going to take our order or not?" Jason asked spitefully, arching his eyebrows at her.

"What would you like?" she asked quietly, shifting her eyes to Johnny. Her hand shook so hard that she could barely write as he ordered one of the lunch specials and a Coke to go. "Jason?"

"I don't want anything," he muttered, tapping his fingers on the table. "Just get his food so we can leave."

"I will," she replied, slipping the paper back into her pocket. "Believe me, I don't want you to be here either." She spun on her heels, her arms folded over her chest as she hurried to the counter, and he didn't bother with a retort, mostly because it would have brought on some comment from the stupid fuck sitting across from him.

Just like she'd done the last time Jason was here, she called out his order and disappeared to the back, reappearing moments later, looking flushed and upset.

"So what's her story, Morgan?" Johnny asked, leaning back in his chair and waiting patiently for the man to start talking. "Fine. I'll just go ask her myself."

Jason gritted his teeth as the young boy got up from his chair and sauntered over to the counter. He called out to her, and Elizabeth turned surprised, but soon she was laughing and leaning against the counter as if Jason wasn't even there.

So, she was going to ignore him.

It was about fucking time.

He picked at the napkin Johnny had left on the table, doing his best not to listen, but she kept laughing while Johnny flirted, and he was getting so fucking annoyed that he wasn't sure he'd be able to control himself if he stayed there much longer. His chair made a grating sound as he scooted it backwards, one that quieted the whole diner, and he stalked towards the counter as Elizabeth took a paper bag from the counter and tossed in some napkins, mustard, and ketchup.

"We're going now," Jason snarled, grabbing Johnny by the back of his shirt. "I don't care if-"

"Here's your order," she interrupted, handing the boy his food with a smile that almost made Jason want to punch him. "Have a nice day. Come back soon." She turned around before he could reply, and he was so startled by the way that Jason was jerking him off the stool that he didn't have much time to reply.

"Jealous much?" Johnny hissed, jerking away outside the diner.

"I don't like this place," he muttered, tossing his head towards the docks, where he was going to drop this fucking jerk off at the warehouse, and let Sonny play babysitter for a couple hours.

"I think you dislike that she likes me," he shrugged, waving his drink at him. "Look, she even gave me a crazy straw for my Coke."

Jason rolled his eyes and shoved him towards the alleyforward, both men freezing when they heard Elizabeth's voice behind them, telling them to wait.

"Is there a problem?" he growled, glaring at her.

She ignored him and smiled at Johnny. "I think you gave me a wrong bill or something," she said, waving a one hundred dollar bill at him.

"I didn't pay," he snickered, looking over at Jason before heading towards the alleydocks, calling back to her over his shoulder. "It was nice to meet you, Ms. Webber."

"I see," Elizabeth muttered, clucking her tongue as she looked at Jason, who was waiting on her to tear the money into pieces while she called him names. Instead, she shrugged and tucked the money into her pocket. "Have a nice day, Jason. Come back soon."


	8. Chapter 8

**[Prompt – Family isn't about whose blood you have. It's about who you care about. – South Park]**

**Chapter 8**

_Mid-January _

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes were five faces that he failed to recognize. Each one's eyes wereone was filled with more hope than the last, and by the time he settled on the petite brunette by the door, he had the feeling that something was very wrong.

"Jason?" He swallowed hard, his throat like sandpaper as he swung his eyes towards the first person to move in. He was dressed in a suit, a hospital badge clipped on the pocket, and his eyes were worried, nervous even as he adjusted the frames of his glasses on his nose. "How are you feeling?"

_Jason? _

"Uh," he coughed, shifting uneasily in the bed.

"He needs some water," someone else spoke up, and he watched as a short blonde woman stepped up beside the other man, and poured a glass from a pitcher on the nightstand with trembling hands. She shuffled through the top drawer of the nightstand for a straw and stepped up beside the bed, holding it out to him with trembling hands.

Clearing his throat, he eased himself up enough to reach for the glass, well aware that everyone – except for the woman by the door – was watching his every move. "Thank you," he muttered, the liquid cool against his throat, instantly soothing it.

"Would you like more?" she asked tenderly, reaching for the pitcher, but he shook his head. "Alright then…well, you have no idea how scared all of us were, Jason."

He shifted his eyes towards the door, but the woman looked away, her head hung as if she were trying to hide that she was crying.

"Come on, Son," barked the older man in the room, scratching a hand through his patchy, white hair. "You could at least say hello after the scare you gave us."

"Uh, hello," he said, dropping his gaze to the older woman that sat beside him in a wheelchair. Her eyes were bright blue, the brightest he'd ever remembered seeing – not that he seemed to remember much at this point. "Um…who are all of you?"

A sharp gasp ripped through the room from the brunette at the door, and she slipped into the hallway, a low sob carrying behind her when a slow escaped from her lips.

"What – what do you mean?" the woman by his beside asked, her hands gripping the railing on the side of the bed. "Jason, we're – we're your family. You _have_ to know us."

His stomach churned, his head pounded, and his palms started to sweat as he looked at each of them, trying to ignore the sobs filtering in from the hallway.

"He's just a little frazzled, a little shaken," the old man croaked, nervously biting his lip. "He'll be – he'll fine. Won't you, Son?"

"Edward, give the boy some room," the older lady spoke up, shaking a slender finger at him. "You can't just crowd around him like this." She fumbled with her electric wheelchair and slowly moved beside his bed, pushing everyone else out of the way. "Well…"

Stretching, she reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently before carefully touching the side of his face. "Your eyes…" She trailed off, leaving him to wonder what that was supposed to mean, but something told him she could see what no one else did. Sighing heavily, she craned her neck to look at everyone else. "You couldn't have possibly expected this to be easy, could you?"

**********

Lila Quartermaine had experienced many difficulties in her life. Sometimes being married to Edward was one of the hardest. He was cranky and annoying, bossy and controlling, but she'd learned long ago to love those traits, embracing ever fault because she couldn't imagine having anyone else. That alone taught her more about love than anything else, which wais why she was so patient with how their lives had turned out.

She couldn't imagine the exact heartache that Alan and Monica were going through; to begin to mourn their son, and then for him to come back as someone else. Jason had been her grandson, _still was_, but that loss was something only his parents could understand. She only just wished they had better learned to deal with it better.

Too often she thought about that morning when Jason opened his eyes after having the doctors tell them he was gone, that Jason needed to be placed in a facility because the hospital could do no more goodfor him. Like his wife, she Lila wanted to believe in him, that Jason would come back, and she was willing to take whatever form that was, even if it meant dealing with Jason Morgan.

As a mother, she understood how important it was to hold tightly onto tightly onto a child, but to let them go when they were ready. And all anyone seemed to do was want to hold onto Jason; to force him into something he wasn't – to make him their son again. It wasn't her place to judge Alan and Monica for their determination, but she could blame them for not really looking at their son and understanding him.

That morning in the hospital, Lila knew the second she looked into her grandson's eyes, that he was gone. They were darker, sadder than she remembered. Nothing was familiar as she stared him in the face, but that didn't make his survival any less of a miracle, and if everyone could stop being so angry, they would understand that.

Sighing, she leaned forward in her wheelchair, reaching for the cup of tea the butler had left her with out on the terrace. She carefully placed a sugar cube in her cup, watching as it dissolved in the hot liquid as the door opened behind her. At the sound of the familiar footsteps, her lips curved upward, and she turned slowly in her chair to look at her granddaughter.

"I've been wondering if you were ever going to come visit me, Elizabeth," she teased, pointing to the chair next to her.

"I'm sorry, Lila," she replied, shivering in the cool spring air as she sat down, crossing her legs and clasping her hands in her lap. "Everything has been…"

"A complete mess," the older lady filled in with a laugh as she took a sip of her tea. "Would you like Reginald to get you anything?"

"Oh, no," she answered, shaking her head. "He already asked. I'm fine."

"I know how much you like the cook's chocolate cake," she murmured, wiping at the lipstick stain that was left on the china teacup.

"I've been eating plenty of it at Kelly's," she laughed, a genuine smile, one that warmed Lila's heart, spreading across her face.

Elizabeth had been so sullen, the epitome of heartbreak ever since that day at the hospital, and the few times she saw her, she Lila hated that there was nothing she could do for her. Like any woman, Lila she knew this was something Elizabeth had to get through on her own. The younger woman was strong – had , had to be to put up with this family and Jason. S, and she would come out of this just fine as as long as she remembered she wasn't completely alone.

"Oh, yes, Edward mentioned that you were working at the diner," Lila said, recalling how her husband had belittled the poor girl for making an earnest living, and she had taken it upon herself to shut him up the moment he started.

She could take her husband's badgering on any day, but when he started in on Elizabeth, some kind of tick went off inside her. It was probably that she saw so much of herself in the woman; the hopes and dreams, the simple devotion to her husband and those she cared about. She always thought Elizabeth Webber was an old soul, and that was why she was so relieved when Jason settled down with her. He needed the kind of woman that was a pillar of strength in the worst possible of times, and Elizabeth had more than proved she was capable of standing tall when the world tried to knock her over.

"I'm sure he's upset about," Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head. "But I do like it. At first, I thought I'd be a terrible waitress, but I've only dropped a few plates, so I think I'm doing well."

"Of course you are," she agreed, grinning widely. "And who cares what Edward says?" Her granddaughter arched her eyebrows in surprise. "What? I don't have to agree with everything he says." Elizabeth laughed. "You're doing something for yourself – this job at the diner is _yours_, and it's important that you have that right now."

"I know," she replied, nibbling her lip. "I felt so stuck for a while. In a way, I probably still am, but my life is now a work in progress. Every day is a step towards _my_ future – one that _I_ make, and that's exhilarating in its own way."

"You're happy," Lila said, holding her hand out to Elizabeth and squeezing it tightly when she took it. "And I can't remember the last time I saw you this way."

"It comes and goes," she admitted, dropping her gaze to their hands. "Like you, I'm just relieved that he's…alive."

"Not everyone is as smart as us," she commented, smoothing her thumb over the back of Elizabeth's hand. "I don't think I had time to say said it before, but you were so brave during everything. So strong. So determined to believe in the good. Sometimes I think it's the only thing that made me believe."

"I don't think that's true," Elizabeth replied, lifting her eyes to hers. "I learned to believe in the good from _you_."

"I won't mind taking credit for you becoming such a fine woman," she teased, squeezing her hand again. "You really do look wonderful. I take it you're taking good care of yourself?"

"Always," she nodded, rolling her eyes like Jason often did when he visited and she asked him the same question.

"And…" she hesitated, until Elizabeth looked her in the face, and something told her it would be okay. "The baby?"

"Oh," she replied, jerking her hand away and holding it against her mouth. Her other hand gripped the arm her chair so tightly her knuckles turned white as and her eyes filled with tears. "Lila…"

"Oh, Elizabeth, it's okay," she sighed, regretting that she had asked. The girl had enough stress as it was. "I haven't told anyone, and I don't plan on it. I only want you to know that I'm here if you need anything."

"How...?" she asked, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Well," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she reached for her hand again, "I imagine I knew before you did. There was a certain glow about you." Elizabeth's hand was tight in hers. "All of this has been so hard on you, and I know you're trying to be strong all the time, but I worry…"

"I'm okay. The baby is fine, and I want to tell everyone, but I'm not ready to make this _that_ real," she whispered, shaking her head as she slumped forward. "I just – I miss him so much, Lila. Doing this without him is killing me."

"I can't even begin to pretend as if I know what you're going through," Lila said, doing her best to slip an arm around her and, to comfort her as much as she could. "The only advice I can give you is that you're a mother now, and there is no greater gift, _nothing_ more special than that. And it's okay not to be strong all the time – to fall apart and be scared." Elizabeth nodded and pulled back to look at her, hurriedly wiping her tears away. "Regardless of what you think, there are people here to hold you when you fall."

**********

There was something illicitly exciting about sneaking through the gardens of the Quartermaine estate and knowing that despite the fact that they wanted him there, they would never know Jason had come close to his former home. He liked parking his bike on the other side of their grounds, climbing the fence, and hunkering along the rose bushes. It was a way of getting at them, even if they didn't know it, and it almost sufficed for all the anger he felt towards them all.

Except Lila, of course.

He couldn't explain why he liked the older woman so much, why he found something so soothing in her company that made him leaving her nearly impossible. Maybe it was that she saw him for who he really was; just a man attempting to make it. She didn't pressure him into being her grandson or remembering the past, and she never rarely spoke of anything that happened before the accident.

She was an escape from the rest of the world who looked at him and thought only of who he used to be.

He cleared his throat as he neared the terrace, knowing she would hear him, and turn around with a smile that actually made him feel something. So many of his emotions were unexplainable, but when he was with his grandmother – the only family he could considered himself to have aside from Sonny – he felt _good_.

"Jason, I wasn't expecting you!" she exclaimed, spinning her wheelchair around to look at him. "My, you change more every time I see you!"

"It's good to see you too," he replied, eyeing the terrace doors as he kneeled down in front of her. He always did his best to make sure that no one was home, and he'd only been caught visiting her one time, which ensued an argument unlike any other they had so far. He swore he'd never come back, but a week later, he found himself missing Lila and her stories.

"How have you been?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she cupped his cheek.

"Good. Work keeps me busy," he replied, chuckling when she pinched his face.

"Not out of trouble though?" she teased, her eyes shinning with his stories. He knew she wasn't keeping tabs on him, but that word naturally drifted around town about his bar fights and drinking. "No worries. I understand the need for a good martini every now and then – just don't hurt yourself. Despite what you think, there are people who care about you."

"I'll do my best, but I don't make any promises," he said, shaking his head when she motioned for him to give her his hand.

"I have to check you out when you visit," she replied, squeezing his hand tightly. "I know you aren't going to see the doctor and you're eating poorly with all that bar food."

"Cheese fries aren't as bad as you think," he argued gently, laughing when she poked him in the chest.

"Finger foods never were my-" She stopped when the door swung open and Reginald appeared, a large bag in his hand.

"Elizabeth left her purse in the foyer," he said, causing Jason to cringe at the sound of her name. He hadn't realized that she was visiting his grandmother, but it shouldn't surprise him. She had been on the Quartermaines side all along. "Should I take it to her?"

"Nonsense," Lila replied, holding her hand out for the bag. "I'll have Jason drop it off on his way to town. No reason to have you making the trip-"

"He should take it," Jason interrupted, pulling his hand away from Lila's and moving to his feet. "I have some things I have to take care ofneed to do."

"Reginald, excuse us for a moment," Lila ordered softly, waving Jason towards her. "I know it's difficult for you, but Elizabeth hasn't done anything wrong."

There it was; their unavoidable topic of conversation.

During their first visits, it was a silent rule that Elizabeth wasn't to be talked about, but slowly her name crept into conversation, making it obvious that she adored Elizabeth as much as she did him. He didn't have the heart to tell her to stop talking about her, and that he could care less what she did or how she did it, so he let Lila tell him stories.

He learned little things about Elizabeth that were so different from the woman he met after his accident. Lila talked mostly about her art – she owned several Webber Originals as she called them, and from time to time she would mention the woman's free spirit, saying it was almost too much for their family to handle. Lila's version sounded so different than his, and had anyone else told him these things about her, he would have called them a liar.

The Elizabeth he knew had been as terrible to him as the rest of the Quartermaines, and he had no desire to know her. Eventually Lila picked up on this, and she tried to avoid talking about her, but it was nearly impossible. Elizabeth was as much a part of her life as he was, and it disgusted him.

"I don't – I don't want anything to do with her," he hissed, surprising his grandmother by his tone. "It's hard enough that everyone knows who I was and how I divorced her, but I – I don't like being around her. She's _nothing_ to me and I-"

"My apologies," she interrupted, settling the bag in her lap, her hands tightening around the sides of it. Her eyes darkened in defeat as they rimmed with tears that he knew weren't intentional. Not once had she tried to manipulate him, to guilt him into doing things. It was obvious that he'd hurt her and that bothered him more than he thought possible. "I wasn't – I wasn't thinking, Jason. I'll have Reginald get the car and take me to the diner. Maybe I'll try some of those cheese fries you're always raving about while I'm there."

Sighing, he kneeled down in front of her. "I'm sorry for talking to you like that."

"I didn't think," she repeated, shaking her head. "I don't want to put you in an awkward position."

"I know," he replied, gritting his teeth as he reached for the bag. Moving to his feet, he started off the terrace, stopping long enough to look back at her. "I'll bring you some cheese fries next time I visit, okay?"

She nodded. "I'll be waiting."


	9. Chapter 9

**[Prompt - When you stop talking, you've lost your customer. When you turn your back, you've lost her. ****– Estee Lauder]**

**Chapter 9**

_Mid-January_

"This isn't his home."

Jason rolled his head from side to side as he paced back and forth in the bedroom of the biggest house he'd ever seen – well, at least that he could remember. It looked like it belonged to a boy, and despite the fact that they insisted he had once lived there, he didn't feel any connection to it.

Nothing fit.

Not the posters on the walls, the pictures on the dresser, or the clothes in the drawers. His _mother_ had told him over and over again how he adored football, hence the posters of various linebackers on the walls that he couldn't name, and he found himself particularly curious about one on the ceiling of a voluptuous blonde in a red bathing suit.

Why would someone put a poster on the ceiling?

"He grew up here, Elizabeth. We are his family. He belongs with his us."

He was beginning to wonder if they realized how well voices carried in this house. His attempts not to listen were failing him, and every time someone yelled at that woman, the tiny brunette from the hospital, something inside him tightened.

"Dr. Jones said he should be at home, in the most familiar place-"

"He lived here for twenty years until you conned him into moving in with you!"

She hadn't spoken to him much since he'd woken up; always lingered in the doorways so she would have a quick escape when reality became too much, and he was beginning to wonder if that was her decision. Unlike everyone else, she was quiet and observant, clearly understanding that he had no idea who he was or where he belonged.

The few times they were actually alone, it was as if she didn't know what to say, which was a change from everyone else who couldn't stop talking. She didn't ask questions or attempt to pry into the memories she believed he had. It was almost as if she understood that who he was no longer existed.

"You spent twenty years manipulating him! I was the first person to actually listen to Jason, and even now-"

"You aren't a mother, so you have no idea how difficult it is to be a parent. Then again, you never really had parents, did you?"

His fists clenched as he glared at the pictures on his dresser, knowing his _mother_ or _father_ had purposely placed them there. Pictures of him as a baby in his mother's arms, playing with a dog on the grounds, in a graduation gown – all what should have been childhood memories, moments he remembered, and none involving the particular woman downstairs or his brother who supposedly caused this entire ordeal.

"I'm a human being, and that's reasoning enough to understand what he's going through. You can't treat him like a child."

"And you can't keep him from us!"

It had been like this since he came home from the hospital a few days earlier; a revolving door of arguments, ones that never ended until she finally relented and left the house only to come back to the following day with as much fire as before.

"I'm not trying to do that. I just want him to be able to breathe."

"And fill his head with thoughts of how horrible we are. You'll probably take him to lunch with AJ."

He gritted his teeth as he scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling as if he were crawling out of his own skin. The doctor had told him he needed time to rest, to recuperate, and to think, but being in this house…it was impossible.

"You're all completely fucking crazy!"

"Don't talk to us like that you spoiled, little brat!"

Without thinking, he grabbed one of the pictures from the dresser and slammed it against the mirror, a sense of relief spreading over him when the mirror cracked. It felt good – too good, especially when he did it over and over and over. His chest heaved when he heard their feet on the stairs and knew they were coming to interrogate him about what he was doing. They would say that Jason Quartermaine never did somethings like this, wasn't this angry, and that he loved his family.

"Jason, what the hell are you doing?" his father cried, opening the door to find his son tipping the dresser to the floor. He ignored him as he jerked every photo, every poster, every piece of Jason Quartermaine from the walls, and it wasn't until Alan grabbed him and tried to stop him that he finally relented.

"Don't touch me," he ordered, shoving his father so hard that he fell back against the wall. His eyes lifted to the doorway where his mother, his grandfather, and Elizabeth stood, watching in horror. "Don't _any_ of you fucking touch me."

"Oh, Jason," his mother sobbed, cradling her face in her hands as he shoved past them and into the hallway.

He hurried down the stairs, willing his feet to move as quickly as possible, and just as he jerked the front door open, he heard Elizabeth behind him. "Don't try and stop me," he warned, glaring at her over his shoulder.

"I'm not," she replied, shaking her head as she stepped up beside him. "I just figured…you'll need a ride to wherever you're going."

**********

Elizabeth shifted her palette between her hands as she carefully eyed the canvas in front of her. She wasn't sure what exactly she was trying to start, but whatever it was certainly wasn't coming out. It literally looked as though a five-year-old had smeared acrylics onto the canvas, which was incredibly frustrating because she did not want to paint like a five-year-old.

No, she wanted to paint like she always had.

Something real. Something deep. Something lively. Something tThat made her feel things when she looked at it, but she supposed she only had herself to blame for thathe mess on the canvas.t. She was so mixed up these days that she didn't know what to feel, so how could she paint that?

Not that a glob of smeared paint couldn't reflect how stuck and confused, how worthless, she was feeling these days. She told herself that every minute and hour of every day was a step towards her future, but deep down she just felt like it was a step towardat leaving her past with Jason behind, and sometimes she wasn't sure if she was ready to let go.

Everyone grieved differently, and she wondered if she was pushing herself a little too much, but she really had no other choice. Hanging onto Jason meant hanging onto the man who wasn't here in place of the one who was – not that either were a part of her life now.

"Fuck it," she muttered, kicking the easel with her foot and feeling relieved as it crashed to the floor. Paint splattered against her worn jeans, and she shrugged, knowing that in a few months they wouldn't fit anyway.

She'd been so rattled ever since her visit with Lila and hated the inevitable truth that loomed; the truth was going to have to come out sooner rather than later. If her grandmother could look at her and see that she was pregnant, then someone else probably had too, which meant that world would only spread, and eventually…Jason would learn the truth.

"None of this is fair to you," she whispered, slipping her hand beneath her baggy, paint- stained t-shirt to rub her belly. "And I know I haven't been very nice, but…I want you. I think I was too afraid to admit it before, and I'm sorry that I thought about-" Her head snapped towards the door when someone knocked, and she dropped her hand away, fanning her shirt out as she made her way over.

Flicking the lock, she pulled the door open, and sucked in a breath when she saw Jason standing in the hallway, her purse in his hand. Despite how often she ran into him, the shock of being close to him never wore down, mostly because she never knew how the encounter would go. He was becoming a regular patron at Kelly's, much to the appreciation of the Port Charles Women's Shelter, who received every hundred dollar tip he chose to leave her.

"You left this," he muttered stiffly, holding it out as if he couldn't stand to hold it any longer.

"Left it where?" she asked flatly, taking the bag and hugging it against her torso. It was amazing the things that she forgot about latelythese days; pots of coffee brewed over, loads of dishes done repeatedly, refills, orders, and now, her purse.

"My grandmother's," he replied, folding his arms over his chest. "I didn't realize you visited Lila."

"I don't have much family here," she murmured, peeking into the top of the bag. "No family really, and she's all I-"

"I didn't take anything," he interrupted, rolling his eyes.

She cleared her throat and looked at him, one hand holding the top of the bag closed. "Why do you have to say it like that?" she asked, nibbling her lip.

"Like what?" he sighed, leaving her toand she wonder red why he was still standing there if he was so damn annoyed with her presence.

"Like I – like I took something from you," she stammered, refusing to let him get to her.

"I have to go," he muttered, hesitating as he turned away, his eyes falling to her hand. "Be careful."

"Jason," she called after him, surprised when he stopped at the end of the hallway. "Thank you."

She could have sworn she saw him shiver as if her words physically hurt him, and she was relieved when he left without saying a word, relieved that she could shrink back to her quiet world without tears.

**********

"You're late," Sonny murmured, looking up from his desk as Jason walked into his living room. He rubbed a finger over his son nose as he leaned back in his chair. "When I call a meeting, I need you to be on time."

"I understand," Jason replied, sitting down across from him and sighing heavily. "I went to see Lila this morning, and she needed me to take something to Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth?" he asked, arching his eyebrow.

"She left her purse when she was visiting Lila, and I was asked to return it," he huffed, shaking his head. "I took it to her."

"That's it?" Sonny asked, knowing it wasn't his place to press, but anytime Jason was near Elizabeth, he worried.

He knew that Jason had been taking Johnny Zacchara to Kelly's and leaving a ridiculous tip, but with Elizabeth's position, she needed all the money she could get, especially when she wasn't touching any that he'd givenave her.

"That's it," Jason replied, clearing his throat as if to say they could moveget on to business.

"Alright then," he sighed, leaning forward. "We have business to discuss." He nodded, waiting patiently. "I appreciate how you've been with Johnny. I know the kid is a stubborn asshole, but I've signed the deal with his father. He'll use some of our warehouses for the next couple of months, and he'll keep his son in line."

"So what's the problem?" Jason inquired, narrowing his eyes at his boss.

"The Five Families aren't particularly happy that I'm working with someone as crazy as Anthony Zacchara. I have to attend a meeting and discuss the deal that was made," Sonny explained, leaning over and opening a desk drawer. "I'd like for you to go with me."

"Okay," he replied, not bothering to ask questions.

"They have a strong dislike for Anthony," his boss warned, setting a lock box on his desk and moving to his feet. He dug through his pocket for a key and opened it. "And in case things turn ugly, I need you to be prepared."

"How so?" he asked, standing up and looking down at the box.

Sonny lifted a blacksilver glock from the box and held it out to his employee. He wasn't surprised when Jason took it, his palm flexing around the handle to find the most comfortable fit. He didn't appear afraid or hesitant, and he had a feeling if Jason was required to shoot, he wouldn't think twice. "It's time you learned a few things."


	10. Chapter 10

**[Prompt - You are marching into the unknown armed with – nothing. – You've Got Mail]**

**Chapter 10**

_End of January_

"You're always so quiet," Jason muttered, shuffling his feet against the wooden planks of the docks as he looked over at Elizabeth.

She shrugged, her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat, her head hangingung and her curls full of snowflakes. He already tried several times to convince her to go home, but she'd insisted she was fine, that she enjoyed the winter night air, though he really knew it was more about keeping him out of the house.

Thankfully, her complications with the Quartermaines hads ceased, probably because he agreed to stay at the mansion as long as he could come and go as he pleased, which usually meant coming and going with Elizabeth. He could see the way they looked at her, almost nervous, as if she was capable of doing something horrible, but Jason found it easier notthan to ask a lot of questions.

In the couple of weeks he'd been at the mansion, he'd learned the way their family worked – that they were used to getting what they wanted, and that Jason came before anyone else. He didn't understand why they felt like they were owed something simply because they were wealthy, and he couldn't figure out why they cared so much for someone who didn't remember them.

"I guess I never know what to say," Elizabeth replied, tipping her head in his direction, a timid smile on her face. "I just want you to get out of there from time to time. Nothing against your family, but they're a tad overbearing."

"Yeah," he agreed, clearing his throat as they approached the end of the dock.

It had become a simple routine; Elizabeth picked him up and drove him around town, explaining where things were and what building was owned by whom, and they ended every evening at the docks, where they stood side by side and looked out over the water. She talked so little about herself, focusing more on simply showing Jason thethe town, and not pressuringnot wanting himJason to remember, but mostly to show him what was there.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, continuing to look out over the harbor, not sure if he was really allowed to ask her things.

"You can ask me anything," she replied softly, swallowing hard as she narrowed her gaze, looking as though she was trying to find something, but couldn't.

"Why do the Quartermaines – why arewere they so mean to you?" he stammered, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

Her eyes widened as she sucked in a breath. "It's complicated, I guess," she sighed, turning away and walking over to the lone bench that was nestled comfortably between two bushes. "There's not much freedom that comes with being a Quartermaine. You're entire life is figured out before you even have it, and Jason – he fought against that, but eventually gave in. They're tricky people, who think that controlling the ones you love _is_ love. Deep down, I think they mean well, and really, it's all they've ever known to do…"

"Except Lila," he said, walking over and hesitating to sit down beside her. She smiled softly and tossed her head towards the empty space on the bench, leaving him to and he wondered if she knew what he felt when he was close to her.

_Safety. _

Elizabeth was quiet and tender, and he found more solace in her presence than he had anything else since his accident. She was always on time to see him, never once cancelling their drives, and though it had only been a week or so since they'd been doing this, it had become the one thingwhat he looked forward to. Knowing what waited at the end of the day helped him ignore the Quartermaines fighting, their pressure to be who he used to be, and it settled some of the anger he felt.

"Don't tell anyone," Elizabeth teased, her smile widening, "but Lila's my favorite. She's been like a mother to me. I don't know what I would have done or where I would have ended up without her."

"You've know the Quartermaines for a while," he commented, the leather of his jacket rubbing together as he leaned back against the bench.

"Too long," she chuckled, her voice hitching like it always did when Jason started to ask questions, which was why he asked so few.

And why he hadn't asked the one that had been eating at him for the last few days.

"Can I ask you something else?" he asked, smoothing his hands over the thighs of his jeans.

Why did she make him so nervous?

"You can ask me anything," she repeated, adjusting her scarf around her neck when a frosty breeze blew off the water.

"Okay, two things," he replied, turning towards her, not surprised when she didn't look at him. "Why are you so patient with me?"

"And the other?" she asked, swallowing hard, her eyes hardening as theyit often did when they broachinged the subject of Jason Quartermaine.

"How did you know him?" he asked, noticing how her eyes flashed briefly and her smile instantly faded.

"I'm patient," she started, licking her chapped lips, "because you need time to figure out who you are and what you want." She tugged at her scarf again and let out a shaky breath. "Edward said you were looking for a job."

He nodded, almost grinning at how she'd not so subtly changed the subject and avoided his second question. "I want to make my own money. Move out. Get a place of my own. I don't like living with the Quartermaines – or rather off their bank account."

"You have all of that," she said softly, dropping her gaze when her eyes filled with tears. "Money. A place to live. But I understand that you want something that's yours."

"Yeah," he muttered, confused by her response, but figuring he'd asked enough questions for one evening.

"Did you really go to one of the warehouses?" she asked, pushing herself up from the bench.

Sometimes she cried when she thought he wasn't looking, and he worried that being around him was hurting her, butand he couldn't understand why. He didn't know who she was or how they were connected, and he may have been brain damaged, but anyone could figure out that there was something _more_ here.

"I saw an ad in the paper," he replied, grimacing as he recalled how awful Edward had acted when he learned his beloved grandson had gone looking for a job with a mobster. "It pays well and I think I could be good at it. When I met Sonny yesterday, he didn't look at me like everyone else."

"How do they look at you?" she asked, turning around and looking him in the face for the first time that night.

"I can't explain it," he shrugged, getting up from the bench and walking over to her. "It's like they see things – things that I can't."

**********

Groaning, Jason tossed his keys down on the desk by the door of his room at Jake's, painfully fumbling for the switch to the lamp.

"Need some help?"

Swearing under his breath, he looked over his shoulder to see Carly sietting on the bed, silhouetted by the thin stream of moonlight that poured in through the window. She was wearing tight jeans and a low cut shirt like she always did, and he couldn't fight the almost primal desire that ripped through him. He was torn between being relieved that she could help him forget about this awful night and throwing her out on her ass for being in his room. "How did you get in here?"

"I have my ways," she murmured, easing herself off the edge of the bed and walking over to him. "I thought you'd be around tonight. You know, play a game of pool and then…You never showed up, so I asked Coleman if I could just wait."

"And you couldn't wait downstairs?" he asked, tensing up at the thought of her being in his room alone. He didn't have very many things – nothing incriminating -, but this was _his _place.

"I didn't know how long you would be. I got impatient. You know I don't like to wait," she purred, swaying her hips as she walked over to him. "Coleman said you might be staying at your _penthouse_. I couldn't believe it. Jason Morgan has a penthouse."

"I don't stay there," he muttered, easing his gun from the back of his jeans where he'd carefully nestled it just as Sonny showed him. He flicked the safety off and opened one of the desk drawers, looking over to see if Carly saw what he'd done.

If she had, she said nothing about it.

The meeting in the city hadn't gone exactly as planned, and Jason was feeling the aftermath. As Sonny expected, the Five Families weren't receptive to his deal with Anthony Zacchara, but they had learned what happened if they spoke out against the fiery Cuban. Instead of arguing with him during the meeting, he was ambushed on the way out. Gun shots ripped through the alley behind the building, and almost instinctively, Jason had reached for his gun as he shoved Sonny into the limo. He didn't feel anything afterwards, no sense of regret or anger, or even worry ied that he would be caught for what he'd done. It came easily, naturally, as if he was made for this, and he wondered if Sonny had known that about him all along.

His boss was quiet the entire way back until they reached the city limits, and he turned to Jason, sincerely thanking him for saving his life. He said he expected something like this, but didn't believe the Five Families would turn on him, and Jason didn't want to believe it either. It was clear in the meeting that the men disliked his choice, but they respected Sonny, trusted him even, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was a set up from a larger power.

"Moving up in the business?" Carly asked, stepping up behind him and sliding his arms around his waist.

She had seen him.

"I'm tired," he muttered, hissing when her hands roamed over the muscles of his stomach and kneaded them against her palms.

"And a little beaten up," she whispered, gently pushing his shirt up, her hands skimming over the dark bruises that had already started to appear. "Maybe you should get checked out, Jason. These look-"

"I'm fine," he replied, pulling her hands away from him and turning around so that he was facing her. "If you want to help, you know what to do, otherwise…I'm tired."

She arched her eyebrow, and for a second, he thought he'd offended her, but then he remembered that wasn't possible. The first night he met Carly she'd walked over to him and interrupted his pool game, and five minutes later, he'd taken her upstairs and _this_ had started.

It was far from the normal kind of relationship that men and women had, but he learned it was common at Jake's. Two lonely people finding one another over a few beers and making the best of it. He'd slept with other women at the bar, but none were as good as Carly. She got that he wanted a quick fix, one of them would leave soon after, and maybe the next time he saw her , he'd buy her a drink.

There were no expectations between them – unless gritty, satisfying sex counted – and he liked that he could get what he wanted and go. And Carly didn't look at him like the other women had; she wasn't afraid to touch him, to make demands, or take control, and she didn't mind just letting him lay there while she took care of things.

And that was just what he needed – _wanted_ – tonight.

"You know," she said, nudging him towards the bed as she tugged off his shirt, "that I am always here to take care of things." She gently shoved him onto the bed, straddling him as she pulled her shirt over her head, and he wasn't surprised to find that she was without a bra.

That was another thing he liked; she came around with as little clothes as possible, so they could get things done and over with, and he could go back to work. Or playing pool. Or whatever the hell he felt like.

"Just lay back," she purred, skimming her hands over his chest as she pushed him back against the mattress, wiggling her hips against his, and purring when felt him harden between her legs. "That's it."

She continued to murmur her appreciations, whispering the dirtiest things he ever heard from a woman's lips as she eased off him long enough to undo the snap of his jeans and slip her hand in his pants. His hips bucked the second her fist closed around him, and he couldn't understand how she could make him so hard, so ready to explode, with the touch of her hand.

"Mmm," she groaned, pumping him in her hand as she stretched to brush her lips over his. "You like that?"

"Yeah," he grunted, skimming his hand up her bare back to her head, fisting it in her messy blonde hair. He tugged gently at first, then harder, and she took the hint and eased her way down, pulling her hand away from him to shove his jeans to his knees, before smoothing her hands over his thighs. His hips bucked off the bed when she finally took him in her mouth, and he tightened her hair around his fingers. "I like that better."

**********

Sonny had very few regrets in his life, having learned long ago that the business he was in didn't allow them. To be in his position was to make quick, clean cut decisions that were precise, often cutthroat, and sadly, they could never be taken back. There was no room to play around with what-ifs and question what might have been, which was precisely why he couldn't shake the sinking regret that swirled in the pit of his stomach.

Tonight, he'd asked Jason to do something life-changing. It was something Sonny had once been asked to do, and the moment he picked up that gun as a teenage boy, his entire life had changed. It was why he had the wealth and power he did now, and it had taken a lot of lives to get him to where he was, and now, he was easing Jason into it, and he wondered if the boy even realized what he'd done.

Sighing, he leaned forward and took a sip of his coffee as he watched Elizabeth wipe down the counter into the diner, looking up every now and then to talk to his father. Sonny really owed Mike for being so generous with Elizabeth. When he'd gone to him and explained the situation, his father had immediately promised to do whatever he could for the young woman, but wasn't sure how much Elizabeth would allow.

"Long day?"

Sonny looked up to see Mike making his way over, a cup of coffee in hand. "I had some meetings in the city."

"Ah," he replied, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from his son, knowing that something had happened tonight that may or may not requirewhere Sonny to need an may or may not be an alibi, and that was why he was here. "How bad was it?"

"Bad," he muttered, ignoring the worry that flickered across his father's face. "Jason saved my life."

Closing his eyes, he replayed the moment in his mind,; remembering how Jason had pulled the gun from his back, his arm outstretched and reaching for Sonny. He hadn't thought for a second about his own life or the people that loved him, and he'd put himself in the line of danger without thinking twice.

Why couldn't he have hesitated?

"Jason?" he asked, arching an eyebrow as he stirred cream into his cup, letting out a heavy sigh. "I thought he was working in the warehouse."

"He's too smart for that," Sonny replied defensively, knowing that his father would be on the same side as everyone else. He was the head of organized crime that had preyed on an unsuspecting man, but it wouldn't have been fair of him to turn Jason away. "He's a natural for this business – reading people, understanding them more than they probably understand themselves."

"He's been working for you for a month," Mike pointed out, clearing his throat as he looked over his shoulder to see Elizabeth carrying a bus bin to the kitchen. It was propped against her side, and both men sighed as they thought about the baby that was hiding beneath the apron. "And she trusts you – so does he."

"I can't make decisions for Jason," he said firmly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I told Elizabeth I would look out for him, but if he wants to move up in the business and make something more for himself-"

"He may be a good right hand man for _you_," he argued gently, shaking his head, "but that doesn't mean it's good for _him_. He respects you Sonny, looks up to you, and obviously would lay down his life for you."

"I know," he replied quietly, tightening his hands around his coffee mug as Elizabeth reappeared from the kitchen, looking exhausted. Sometimes when he looked at her, he saw his mother, working hard to keep it together, and desperately loving a man who didn't love her back. It wasn't fair. "She needs to rest. It's not good for her to work this hard."

"It's not work that's hurting her," Mike sighed, getting up from the table and clearing their dishes. "And this – when she finds out he's picked up a gun, that he's _serving_ you and not packing coffee beans – it's going to hurt her more."


	11. Chapter 11

**[Prompt –** "**The road to hell is paved with good intentions." – Unknown]**

**Chapter 11**

_Early February_

"I think he's making good progress," Elizabeth said, easing her china teacup down onto its matching saucer. She was too nervous to look any of Jason's family in the face, too afraid of what she'd really see. "I've spent a lot of time with him – almost daily in the past couple of weeks-"

"Oh, we know," Edward interrupted, bracing a hand on the arm of his chair as he leaned forward, a crooked finger pointed in her direction. "You're encouraging this new life that he's so determined to create."

"I understand why you are so hesitant about him working for Sonny, but…"

"There are no buts," the older man argued, motioning for his son and daughter-in-law to back him up. "Sonny Corinthos is a criminal. There is _no_ way around that."

It was a ridiculous argument to even begin. The Quartermaines had every right – every fact to back up their reasoning – for not wanting Jason to work for a criminal, but she knew they were on the verge of losing him.

In just the few days since he'd started working at the warehouse, he was less reserved, surer of himself, as if he were already finding a place with his new identity, and that was terrifying. Each day was a step towards his future away from them, and one day they were going to wake up, and Jason would be gone; nothing more than a memory.

"You know what Dr. Jones said," Elizabeth reminded him, sliding her saucer and cup onto the edge of the coffee table, suddenly feeling desperate to make her escape. She hadn't come here to argue, but to make them understand that they had to let go of Jason just a little bit if they wanted to hold onto him for much longer. "He's like a child right now, and if you push, he's going to continue to push back. When he's out of this house out, he's so different and relaxed, and if you all tried-"

"His doctors said he needed rest," Jason's mother murmured, pacing back and forth in front of the buffet table, carefully eyeing the expensive liquor in the crystal decanters.

"Yes, but he also needs room," she stressed, knowing she'd have to beg and grovel before they would ever understand. "You all have been so good to him, especially since he's been so awful and angry with you, but he needs something more."

"And what exactly are you proposing?" Alan asked patiently, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"I – I want to tell him the truth," she replied slowly, still too scared to look at anyone. "He trusts me, and I can use that to benefit all of us. And I can't continue to lie to him anymore…He keeps asking me how I knew Jason."

"You made that decision on your own," Monica pointed out quickly. "We were open with Jason about being his family, about who he was."

"But that's not him anymore," Elizabeth argued, trying hard to keep her reserve, but knowing it was slipping away with every passing second. "He isn't Jason Quartermaine, so why would I constantly badger him about being my husband? I just – I want him to know that he has a home already – a penthouse that he could have – even if it's just for a place to go."

"Meaning you'll just lock him up in that damned penthouse and-" Edward started, and she couldn't stop herself from interrupting.

"I haven't locked him _anywhere_," she reminded him sternly. "I just let him…be. And that's what Tony said we needed to do."

"Tony doesn't have any children," Monica huffed, shaking her head. "And neither do you, so you have no idea-"

"He was my husband," she cut in, clenching her fists tightly at her sides, surprised when no one argued her statement. She was on the verge of losing control, of breaking down, and she had sworn she wouldn't let the Quartermaines get to her. "I just – either we give him his space, the chance to choose his own life, or else he's going to walk away forever."

"From us, but not you," Edward snapped, jabbing his finger in her direction. "You'll get your husband back, which is what all this is about, huh? You've been the perfect, patient wife, and you think that he'll come around."

"No," Elizabeth corrected, getting up from the couch. "I'm giving him his space. I let him breathe, but I have no predispositions about where this is going to end up. He doesn't know who the hell I am. He isn't going to _want_ me, and I'm okay with that because…he's alive."

She gave a smile of relief when Alice, the maid,made appeared in the living room with her coat and purse in hand – at least someone had understooand her desire to get out of here. "Thank you," she said, slipping the coat over her arm as she clutched her purse in her hand. She started to leave without saying another word, but stopped and looked around at Jason's family – her family. "You have to stop pretending that he's your son because he isn't. He's not Jason Quartermaine. He's not my husband. And I know we all want him back – that we want our lives back to the way they were before -, but we have to be thankful for what we do have."

"I don't see what good you're going to do by telling him you're his wife and showing him where he used to live," Alan sighed, easing back against the couch cushions and looking up at her. "But we told him the truth, and I suppose you should too. He does trust you and that may work out for all of us."

"I only want to be honest," Elizabeth repeated, starting towards the doorway, stopping mid-step when she saw Jason pacing back and forth in the foyer.

Alice quickly ushered her out of the living room, closing the doors behind her, and seconds later, voices erupted, arguments over what she was going to do.

"I didn't know you were here," Jason said, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck as he shifted his eyes towards the closed doors. "You were talking to them about me." She nodded. "Why?"

"I – I don't know," she replied honestly, realizing that he had a point. Jason was an adult. She had no reason to discuss him with his family. "You said you liked working for Sonny,. tThat you wanted to get a place of your own and start living. I want them to see things from your perspective."

"Why?" he added, his brow crinkling as he looked at her. "They won't listen. They can barely hear their own voices."

"I told you before," she swallowed, shifting her coat in her arms, "that they show their love by controlling you, which is a terrible way to show it, but I know they don't love you any less."

"They love who I used to be," he reminded her, his face relaxing. "They don't look at me like you or Sonny. And being in this house - it makes my stomach ache and I can't sleep at night. I just want out."

"I know," Elizabeth murmured, knowing all along that eventually this was going to happen.

"Sonny – he offered me a place to stay," Jason said, hesitating as if she was going to protestargue, but she just couldn't bring herself to raise an argumento. "And that bar – the one you took me to last weekend, but wouldn't let me drink-"

"You're still on pain medication," she reminded him, but when he shrugged it off, and she knew he still wasn't taking it.

"Anyway, they have rooms too. I went and talked to the bartender this morning." He paused again, and she wondered if he wanted her to fight him on this. "I can easily afford a room on my salary from Sonny, and I think I like it better there than here. They won't be hovering and shoving old photos in my face or asking me twenty times a day if I remember anything from last December. And you…you can still see me whenever you want."

"I'd like that," she smiled softly, her eyes widening when he walked over to the foot of the stairs and grabbed a poorly packed duffel bag. Not that he really needed anything besides his clothes. "Jason…"

"Do you think it's a bad idea?" he asked, sliding the bag over his shoulder, and she shook her head. "Good."

She didn't understand how her opinion could matter so much anyway, and it deepened the guilt she was already carrying. "Can I take you somewhere?" she asked, fumbling through her purse for her car keys. "There's – there's something I have to tell you."

**********

Edward Quartermaine had known plenty of conniving women in his lifetime. They breezed into his life from time to time, especially when he was a young entrepreneur, and he'd learned to spot a young, lively gold-digger as easily as he could a mistake in a campaign or a flaw in the company's numbers.

Now to say that he grouped Elizabeth Webber with such women would have been a lie. After all, she came from a wealthy family -; doctors who had all but founded General Hospital -, and twenty years ago, he would have loved such a courtship between Audrey Hardy's granddaughter and his grandson.

Only Elizabeth did not act like a woman of wealth and class, and she'd spent most of her youth bucking the traditions that defined the Quartermaines, which was why he was disgusted by his grandson's decision to marry her. Jason needed a matriarch for his home and future children, and he'd chosen some damn hippy girl who splattered paint on canvas and molded things out of clay. She was nothing more than a child herself, which would have been fun for some type of young, scandalous affair, but she was not the type of woman a boy brought home to impress his family.

Jason was taken by the girl's intoxicating spirit – those hippies had a way of drawing people into their silly, cultish ways – and he had hoped his grandson would wise up before the wedding, but he married the damn girl, and they lived together for a good solid five years of holy matrimony before the accident. They gave him no great- grandchildren, probably because the girl was baron from some silly LSD drug leftover from the seventies, and she slowly pulled Jason further and further away from the mansion.

Edward understood devotion to a woman – why his entire life had been lived for Lila Quartermaine, but she was the type of woman a man was supposed to devote himself to, and Elizabeth…well, he was finished trying to figure her out, especially when he gave her the benefit of the doubt so many years in a row because Jason loved her. As Elizabeth so often put it, Jason was gone and so was the past, so there was no reason for him to be the least bit nice to her, considering this latest stunt.

"You're with child?" Edward asked, repeating the question a third time as his granddaughter-in-law tightened her arms around her chest and hunched on the end of the couch. "You're having Jason's child?"

"Yes," she whispered, staring at the floor as she often did when having a serious conversation with the Quartermaines.

"Are you sure it's Jason's?" he asked again, ignoring Monica's scolding glare. She'd been standing next to Alan, still trying to wrap her head around what Elizabeth was telling them. "What? She spent a lot of time with AJ after the accident!"

"I didn't sleep with AJ," she hissed, gritting her teeth as her eyes shot to his.

"I just – Elizabeth, why didn't you tell us?" Monica asked, walking over and sitting down beside her on the couch. "This is the most wonderful news – something we've all needed to hear, and you-"

"I needed some time to figure things out," she interrupted apologetically, "but it's not something I could hide forever." As if to show them just what she meant, she smoothed her hand over her lower belly, revealing the growing bump that was hidden beneath her baggy shirt. "I'm still not sure what I'm going to do."

"Well," Edward chimed in, scratching the top of his head, "you're going to move out of that damn diner. My grandchild – the future heir of ELQ – will not be born above a filthy diner."

"Kelly's is not filthy," she sighed, holding her hand over her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm going to get a bigger place soon, but I just needed some time to pull my head together."

"You won't need an apartment," Alan said seriously, walking over and sitting down on the other side of her. "You can stay here."

"Damn right, she will," Edward barked. "This child is a Quartermaine, an heir, and he – or she - will-"

"This child is a _Webber_," Elizabeth interrupted firmly, narrowing her eyes at the older man. "I have no intention of moving in here and living off of any of you. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of this baby on my own. It's going to be difficult, but I can make it."

"Ah," he murmured, arching his eyebrows. "You want money."

"No," she replied, shaking her head as she looked back and forth between Monica and Alan. "I – I have money. Jason gave me plenty in the divorce-"

"What?" the old man gasped, wondering why he had no knowledge of this. Jason had moved out, but that didn't mean there weren't people keeping tabs on his grandson, especially his bank account, something they agreed he should have for the time being should he decide to give up this life of crime for a business suit and corner office.

"Jason filed for divorce, Edward. I thought you knew-"

"I don't give a rat's ass about that," he cut in angrily. "The money? Jason gave you money?" She nodded. "So he knows about this?"

"Not exactly," she replied, fisting her hands in the hem of her shirt, a slender finger stroking the hidden bump. "He gave me the money because he wanted to get rid of me – like that made some kind of difference. I didn't want any of it, but now…"

"Now you think you deserve it because you're having his child," he muttered spitefully.

"Father, don't you think that's a bit-"

"Oh, don't start with me, Alan," he ordered, pushing himself up from the chair. "She shows up here a month or so after getting her divorce and money – what, is it all gone, Elizabeth?"

"No, I haven't touched it," she defended, her eyes filling with tears. "And I wouldn't have, but this child – honestly, I can't afford to not use that money now, but I only plan on using it for what the baby needs. I just thought you should know – you have a right to know-"

"Of course," Monica murmured quietly, smoothing a hand up and down the young woman's back.

He couldn't believe how quiet his son's wife was being about this, especially when she had blamed Elizabeth for how Jason turned out. She took their grandson out of their home, and he never returned all because she thought she could save him or something.

"We're here for whatever you need," Alan added softly, forcing a smile.

"How can you two be so damn nice to her?" Edward barked, pointing at her. "She lied to us – deceived us, and now she has Jason's child -, the only thing we have left of him -, and she's going to keep that from us, too."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath as she maneuvered her way off the couch, despite Monica and Alan's attempts to keep her pinned between them. "You are more than welcome to be a part of this child's life, but it's going to be on my terms."

"What?" Monica asked, tipping her head towards her.

"This is your grandchild, and I want you to be excited and overjoyed," she replied seriously, one hand still clutching her lower belly. "But I'm not moving in here. I'm not asking for money. And you sure as hell can't expect this baby to be some – some heir! And if – _when_ Jason finds out, if he chooses to be a part of this child's life-"

"How stupid are you, girl?" Edward interrupted angrily, stalking towards her. "You can't let that damn criminal near your child."

"He's just working at the warehouse," she murmured, shaking her head when he continued to argue.

"He's working for Sonny. My God, you know he took him to the city last week, and there was some kind of shootout, and Jason – well, I have it on good authority that he killed to save that-"

"Stop," Elizabeth whispered, hanging her head. "Sonny is looking out for him."

"Oh, sure, by placing a gun in his hands," Edward added, ignoring the looks of horror on his son and daughter-in-law's faces. He didn't have to tell them everything, especially when it would do nothing but cause an argument, and he was tired of arguing over Jason's poor choices. If the son of a bitch wanted to kill people, fine, but he wasn't bringing his great- grandchild into it.

"I can't do this," she said, starting towards the doorway, her head hung as she started to cry. "I just thought you all should know."

"The nerve," he muttered, undoing the buttons of his suit jacket and shrugging it off his shoulders. He tossed it down on his chair and started for the desk in the corner, shoving his sleeves up as he walked.

"What are you doing?" Alan asked, sharing agiving his wife a worried look with his wife.

Edward jerked his chair out, sat down, and started flipping through his rolodex. "She's going to keep that child from us."

"She said nothing of the sort," Monica sighed, cradling her face in her hands.

"Oh, she will, unless we give her something that she wants," he muttered, his hands trembling as he flipped through the numbers. "Or worse, she'll actually let that criminal be a father, which is the most terrible-"

"It could be good for Jason," Alan pointed out.

"Or it could get my great- grandchild killed," he replied, shaking his head at his son as he snatched the phone from the receiver. "I didn't raise you to be so naïve."

"What are you doing?" Alanhe asked again, walking over as Edward punched in the number for Justice Ward.

"Something we should have done when Jason filed for divorce and decided to give away my hard- earned money," he hissed, waiting impatiently as the phone rang on the other end. "And something we have to do now that Elizabeth is giving birth to a Quartermaine."

"Father, couldn't you give it a day or two to think about this?" Alan asked, realizing exactly what he was up to.

"Oh, you'll thank me for this eventually," he replied, ordering Justice's secretary to get him on the phone when she finally picked up. Frowning, he reached out and grabbed his son's hand, squeezing it tightly. "You will thank me for this, Alan. Just wait and see."


	12. Chapter 12

**[Prompt – ****"Truth is still absolute. Believe that. Even when that truth is hard and cold, and more painful than you've ever imagined. And even when truth is more cruel than any lie." – Lucas, One Tree Hill]**

**Chapter 12 **

_Early February _

"Are you okay?" Jason asked, leaning his head back against the headrest as he looked over at her. Elizabeth nodded, her foot easing down on the brake when the stoplight ahead turned to red. "You're shaking."

She swallowed hard,hard; tightening her grip around on the steering wheel, knowing there was nothing she could say to counter his statement. Every part of her was trembling, from her toes to her fingertips, terrified that she was making the biggest mistake of all.

"Elizabeth," he murmured, reaching out to touch her wrist, his calloused fingertips so familiar against her skin.

"We're almost there," she said, sighing when his hand returned to his lap. She cleared her throat as she turned a sharp left, bounding into the parking garage of Harbor View Towers.

"You sure you have a license?" he asked teasingly, and it was so unlike him to make a joke that she almost laughed.

"I do," she replied instead, her knuckles turning white against the leather steering wheel, aching when she loosened her grip and stretched them out against the smooth leatherit. "So…" Carefully, she pulled into a parking space close to the elevator as if she might need the quick escape. "We're here."

"Okay," he said, unbuckling his seat belt after she'd turned off the ignition and getting out of the car after she turned off the ignition.

He hadn't asked a single question the entire drive over – didn't even hesitate to get in the car with her without knowing his destination, and she felt guilty for allowing him to have so much trust in her.

She kept thinking about what his family had said – how it was her decision to keep the truth from him, but she'd been so afraid. Wasn't that why most people lied anyway? The truth about his Quartermaine past was enough for him to demolish everything that represented his former self, and she was terrified of him doing the same thing to her husband's memory.

"This way," she muttered, gently closing her car door and starting towards the elevator. Her finger shook fiercely as she pressed the button, her stomach churning at the thought of going into the penthouse _with_ him.

She had been to the penthouse twice in the last two months; once to get things for herself and the second to get things for him to take to the Quartermaines. It was too quiet without his company, and she found it easier to stay with Brenda and Jax than to be swallowed up by her past. UnfortunatelyThough they probably would have let her, she couldn't hide with them forever – though they probably would have let her.

"Alright," she sighed, sucking in a breath when the elevator dinged and the doors parted.

He stepped on behind her without a word, his shoulders pulled back, standing straight as if he didn't have a care in the world. And maybe he didn't because he was…e…he was with her. He didn't even seem to pay attention when she jabbed the button for the penthouse floor, and part of her wondered if he'd even care.

That she had lied.

That she had let him stay with the Quartermaines instead of bringing him home.

That she had let him trust her without knowing her.

"This way," she muttered, forcing a nervous smile as the doors opened. He waited for her to step off, following obediently behind her, and her hands shook so hard that she couldn't get the key into the door.

"Here," he said, placing his hand over hers and slipping the silver key into the lock, jerking up on the handle as if he knew it sometimes stuck, and shoving it open.

"Thanks," she replied, holding the door open and motioning him inside.

His eyes widened as he looked around the room, a soft smile spreading across his face as he looked at the Christmas tree that still stood in the corner. She hadn't been able to bring herself to touch the decorations, to pack up the last moment she'd had with her husband. "Aren't the holidays over?"

"I haven't been here much," she replied, closing the door and taking a deep breath.

"You live alone?" he asked, his eyes falling to the pictures on the mantle.

"Not exactly," she replied, wringing her hands as she walked behind him, noticing how he stiffened when he grew closer.

"_I_ live here," he said slowly, turning around to look at her, his eyes looking around the room as if trying to find something familiar.

"Yes," she nodded, nibbling her lip. "I – I wanted you to know that you – you already have a place to stay – if you want. Instead of staying at the bar or Sonny's – unless that's what you want…"

"You had a key," he muttered, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he backed away from her, the pieces slowly coming together in his mind. "You – you live here too."

"Yes." There was no way to make this easy – she had made a choice, no doubt a bad one, and either it would continue to bring them together or…

Well, she didn't want to think about it.

"Are you going to explain?" he asked quietly, his eyes darkening to a shade of blue that reminded her of the day he'd trashed his room.

"I – oh, Jason…" He just stared at her, his gaze hardening by the second, and she couldn't wait any longer. "I – we're…married." It was just a whisper, but it ripped through the room, tearing through the silence in the most ear-splitting of ways. "I'm – I'm your wife."

**********

"_That crotchety, old fu-"_

"Brenda," Elizabeth scolded, propping her cell phone on her shoulder as she dipped into the alley that led to the docks. Normally she would have avoided doing so, but she was exhausted, her feet hurt, and she wanted to get back to her room above the diner as quickly as possible.

After telling the Quartermaines the truth, she needed a moment to relax and found herself at her studio, standing in front of a blank canvas. She stood there for over an hour before realizing she wasn't inspired enough to actually do anything, having let her nerves get the best of her.

Their reaction shouldn't have been surprising, but it was in so many ways. Monica and Alan almost appeared sympathetic while Edward was bitter when she had imagined their feelings would have been reversed. She was well aware of their feelings towardshow they felt about her, but she thought that having a great grandchild might charm the eldest Quartermaine instead of upsetting him.

To be fair, she had lied in the worst possible of times. Each of them was still grieving, and she had been holding onto a secret that could have given them hope. Her child would be the last piece of who Jason was, and she'd wanted them to believe, like her, that it was also a piece of who Jason he could be. It was silly of her to think that a child could bring them together when they would never accept who their son had become.

Had she even accepted him?

She'd told herself over and over in her head that Jason was gone, that he was someone else, and she had to let go, but that was like doing the impossible. Even when she had focused on her future; getting a place of her own, preparing for motherhood – Jason dangled in her past as what she would never haved, which was a heartbreaking thought since she was carrying his child.

"_You told Edward you were having a baby, and he flies off the handle when he should thank you for telling him in the first place." _

"It wasn't exactly like that," she sighed, finishing the last button on her coat and taking the phone in her hand again. "Everything's just a mess."

_"And it's only going to get worse. Don't get me wrong, I love Edward. The Quartermaines have always been good to me, but…you have something they want, Elizabeth." _

"I know," she murmured, stumbling on her feet when a cat darted out from behind a garbage can. She picked up her pace, eager to get out of the dark. "I lied to them. I've lied to everyone."

_"You lied to protect yourself and your child – and Jason. Don't feel guilty about that."  
_

"Easy for you to say," she said, reaching the end of the alley and turning in the direction of the docks. "Besides I have no intentions of keeping them out of this child's life, but they can't expect me to depend on them – to let them take over."

"_Honey, you're talking about the Quartermaines. This is all they know how to do." _

"I just have to give them time,'" she muttered firmly, mostly to comfort herself. "In a day or two, I'll stop by and I'll make sure they understand that I plan on letting them be involved with this child, but that it has to be on my terms."

_"You might want to take some law enforcement with you – maybe a lawyer." _

She rolled her eyes when her best friend snickered into the phone, though she had to admit that it was comforting to hear Brenda laugh. "Monica and Alan seemed to understand. They'll talk some sense into Edward, and in the mean time, that's the least of my worries. I have to figure out how to…" She trailed off as she rounded the corner onto thethat led to the docks, her eyes falling first to the water below, and then the dark figure pacing back and forth on the wooden planks. "Brenda, I have to go."

_"Elizabeth, wait."_

"Look, I'll call you tomorrow," she said quietly, stopping at the top of the stairs, torn between heading on home and walking down below. "I'm home. Enjoy your time with Jax in Paris."

_"I am, but I'm worried about you being alone- for another week."_

"I'm fine," she stressed, sucking in a breath when he turned slowly, peering up at her. He looked stiff beneath his leather jacket, his face hard in the moonlight, and she already knew his eyes would be dark and murky, hiding the softness she'd once known. "Just buy me something pretty."

_"Elizabeth, I really-"_

She snapped the phone closed and slid it into her coat pocket, her legs starting down the stairs as if she had no say in the matter.

Jason turned away, flinching at the sound of her boots as she walked over to him. "I'm working," he muttered, slipping his hands into his jeans and glaring out at the water. "Not that I would want to talk to you if I wasn't."

"I didn't realize warehouse workers watched for shipments," she sighed, folding her arms over her chest as she inched her way near him. She never knew what was too close – what would make him snap at her.

"If that's your way of asking whether or not the rumors about my promotion are true," he replied, shaking his head, "you should find another approach. Or not, since it's none of your business."

She couldn't argue there. Whether he was unloading coffee beans or carrying firearms to protect Sonny – it shouldn't matter anymore to her, but it did. It wasn't something that she could turn off – there was no switch to stop caring.

"Your grandfather told me-"

"Edward is not my grandfather," he interrupted, his shoulders tightening beneath his jacket, the first sign of him physically closing himself off.

"The Quartermaines," she started again, causing him to swear under his breath. "Edward – he said last week you went into the city with Sonny…that you killed-"

"There's no proof," he cut in seriously, tipping his head towards her. "And it's not any of your business."

So he had; gone into the city, taken a life – maybe even more than one, and moved up in ranking.

Was it wrong that she just wanted to know why? What did Sonny give him that no one else could?

Respect – that much was obvious.

Even Elizabeth could see how Sonny looked at Jason as if he were a human being and not some medical mishap, something gone wrong that would never be right. She'd tried to look at him in the same way and thought that she'd done goodwell enough for a while, but then everything fell apart.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself," she said, clenching her fists when he laughed, the sound echoing off the buildings around him, and closing in around her.

"I'm not your concern," he replied, lifting dropping his eyes to hers, forcing her to see that there was _nothing_ familiar there. "When the fuck are you going to get that through your head?"

"I'm not criticizing your decision," she apologized, suddenly regretting not going on home and leaving him to stand in the dark.

Though part of her couldn't help but imagine that he liked that she stopped – that, that he had probably heard her coming, and that was why he turned to look at her. The interaction lit a spark somewhere inside him – the part that craved attention and, wanted to hurt her and the people who cared about him. That bitter depth that no one could touch delicately enough to cure.

Maybe she craved it too; needing the satisfaction of his attention to know that she was under his skin as much as he was hers.

"I don't care if you are," he shrugged, continuing to glare at her. "What I do is my business, not yours or the Quartermaines, and if you'd get your own god damn life-"

"I have my own life," she hissed, wondering if it would make a difference if he knew that her life would _always_ involve him. "I just – I've been patient with you-"

"I didn't ask you to be." He turned back to the water, slipping a pair of binoculars from his pocket.

"I'm not talking about us," she replied, stepping up beside him, too infuriated to give a damn as to whether or not he wanted to talk to her.

He dropped the binoculars from his face and slipped them back into his pocket. "There is no us, Elizabeth," he smirked, pulling out his cell phone and dialing a number. He cleared his throat and turned away, whispering into the phone – something about a shipment, but she tried not to listen. "Why are you still standing here?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, shifting her eyes to the water as they filled with tears. He didn't deserve to know the truth about this baby. It wasn't going to change a thing. "It's pointless."

His phone rang and he glanced down at the caller ID, then back at her, his eyes lingering on her face. "You shouldn't walk around in the dark by yourself, especially down here," he said, started towards the stairs, his phone still ringing. "It's dangerous."


	13. Chapter 13

**[Prompt – Before I knowed it, I was sayin' out loud, 'The hell with it! There ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue. There's just stuff people do. It's all part of the same thing. – The Grapes of Wrath]**

**Chapter 13**

_Early February _

"Wife," Jason repeated, stepping away as if she'd burned him, his hands clenching into tight fists. Every instinct, every feeling of comfort and understanding, why he felt good when he was next to her was all something deeper than he ever imagined. He'd thought she was a girlfriend, a lover even, someone that Jason passed his time with, but not _this_. Not something so permanent. "You – you weren't just involved with him."

"No," she admitted, hanging her head in defeat. "You figured out that much."

"It was obvious," he muttered, turning back to the mantle and looking over the pictures. Each one a memory – a figment of the person he used to be. _With Elizabeth._ "You don't look at me like everyone else. And you were just there." He braced a hand against the fireplace, stroking one of the picture frames with his fingertip. "You had your own reasons…like everyone else."

"Jason, no, it wasn't like that," she replied defensively, her hand brushing against the back of his arm. "I – I knew that if I told you who I was you would-"

"Be angry," he interrupted, his fingers curling around the photo. It was taken somewhere outdoors in the fall – the leaves were changing, and Elizabeth was laughing, her face pressed against Jason Quartermaine's shoulder. "I'm _always_ angry."

"I know," she said, sucking in a breath as she stepped closer, heris hand resting against his arm, just above his elbow.

The gentle touch caused him to stiffen, and he jerked her away as he slammed the photograph to the floor. The glass busted and sprayed across the hardwood floor, causing her to flinch. He was surprised by how good it felt – to break something, to hurt her. It almost eased his frustrations. "I'm not him, Elizabeth."

"I – I know that," she said, clasping her hands to her chest as she backed away, the rims of her eyes heavy with tears. "I don't – I don't want you to be."

"Then why bring me here?" he asked angrily, rubbing a clenched fist against his temple as he looked around.

The dining room table, the books on the shelves, the pictures – nothing was familiar. They were all leftover pieces of his former life that were slowly closing in around him as if attempting to suffocate who he had become.

"Why bring me to his home? With his things? And his life?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her, desperate for any answer. "Why the fuck did you bring me here, Elizabeth?"

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest as a tear slipped down her face. "I thought – you wanted to get away – to move out, and I thought that this could help. This could be your place."

"With you," he said, turning away again, not sure what was more frustrating; that he wasn't that man or that he couldn't be.

"No, I didn't expect-"

"Everyone expects something from me," he interrupted, his fist slamming down against the mantle and sweeping the rest of the pictures away with the flick of his wrist. "Everyone wants him-"

"I don't," she cried, muffling a sob with her hand when he kicked at the pile of glass, his boot tearing into one of the pictures. Her voice was soft, the gentlest thing he'd ever heard, but it only rubbed salt into the wound, infuriating him more than he ever had been. "Jason, please."

"Stop," he warned, gritting his teeth and tilting his head at her. "Just…stop."

"Okay," she said, swallowing hard as she stepped towards him, careful of the glass. Or was it of getting too close? He couldn't tell anymore. "Will you let me explain?" He nodded, flinching when she touched his wrist, and he could tell she was waiting for him to lift his eyes to hers. "I don't want you to be anyone that you aren't. I know you believe that, don't you?"

"I don't know what I believe," he replied, closing his eyes when her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist. "I – you lied."

"I didn't want you to push me away like everyone else," she murmured, leaning in so that her face rested just next to his shoulder. "It's selfish, I know."

"I asked you," he said flatly, caring little about her motivesations. "When I woke up and I didn't recognize anyone – they – they told me who they were. I wanted that. The doctors said I needed a lot of things, but most of that revolved around honesty."

"I know," she whispered, still clutching his wrist as if knowing what would happen the very second she let go.

"And you – I asked you how you knew Jason Quartermaine."

He held her gaze longer than he meant to, desperately searching for some kind of reason, something that would make him understand all of this, but there was nothing. Only her quivering lips and wet cheeks, a face that he couldn't place if his life depended on it, and he no longer cared enough to try.

"I'm sorry for lying to you. I never meant to hurt you – to-"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he interrupted, pulling away from her. Her hand briefly tightened around his wrist before letting go, and she biting back a sob as he continued to walk away. "I can't be him and I can't be here and…"

"Maybe you could just take some time to think," she offered, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. "This is your place – or it can be. I thought worrying about a home was one less-"

"I told you I had places to go," he said, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Okay, then I can take you to Sonny's or Jake's," she replied, already sounding as if she knew neither of those were options. "Or I could just-"

"Leave," he filled in, dropping his hands to his sides. "Just leave."

It was wrong to send her away, but it was easier than trying to find a place of his own – some place where people wouldn't look or ask questions. He wasn't in the mood to be in a bar or around Sonny, though work would probably provide a much needed distractionattraction. He was relieved when Elizabeth didn't argue and quietly gathered her things and slipped out the door as if not wanting to disturb him further.

Taking a deep breath, he counted to ten, wanting her on the elevator so she wouldn't hear the sounds of more glass shatteringmashing. His fist slammed into the picture above the fireplace, something painted and framed, and he felt good when it crashed to the floor. And just like he couldn't stop that afternoon in his room, he continued to break things – a lamp, some vase in the middle of the coffee table, he even shoveding over the Christmas tree before tearing the stockings away from their hooks.

He collapsed exhaustedly to the floor with a bloody hand, paying no attention to the broken glass and torn photos, relieved that he had broken something else that had belonged to Jason Quartermaine. Leaning back, he rested his head against the metal screen as the room slowly stilled.

A few minutes later, he opened and closed his fist, trying to work out the pain, cringing when he looked saw the amount of blood covering his hand. He told himself he deserved it for hurting her, but what else was he supposed to do?. Sighing, he reached for one of the stockings, knowing he should stop the bleeding before it got too bad. His attention jerked to his side when something fell out, the sound echoing off the hardwood word floors as it rolled towards him, stopping right next to his thigh. He sucked in a breath as he picked up the silver baby rattle, rolling it around in his palm and stopping on the engraving.

_Merry Christmas, Jason. _

**********

"Have a seat, Mrs. Morgan," the perky blonde secretary grinned, gesturing towards the waiting area across from her desk. "Someone will be down to show you to our common room when Mr. Quartermaine is ready."

She started to correct the woman on her name, but realized it would have only made an awkward situation even worse. "Thank you," she murmured, choosing to pace instead of sitting, too nervous about seeing her former brother-in-law to relax even in the slightest bit.

It had been thirty days since she'd last seenaw AJ, an amount of time that didn't matter when she was married to his brother, but now, he was one of the few people in her corner, and time was slow without him.

Some days she was frustrated with being so alone, but reminded herself that this was her journey. Not AJ's or Brenda's; they had lives of their own and weren't committed to being anything more than an uncle and aunt. Of course, she knew either of them would have been there in a heartbeat had she asked, but it didn't seem fair. AJ needed to focus on his recovery and Brenda had a husband and sometimes a career as a model when she was asked to flash her face for a campaign every so often. They were defined by these things; brother, former alcoholic, wife, struggling model (because as Brenda put it, she was getting old), and Elizabeth was still trying to figure out what defined her.

On a good day she was a waitress, a wannabe artist trying to make sense of her life on a canvas, while on most, she was still Jason Quartermaine's _widow_, the woman in love with a man who hated her. She just had to remain confident that every day was another step away from the housewife she once was, and AJ and Brenda couldn't really help her do that, though they could be wingmen on the journey.

"Mrs. Morgan?"

Cringing, she looked over to the receptionist's desk where a tall, dark-haired man dressed in a suit waited.

"Mrs. Morgan," he exclaimed, holding out his hand and shaking it firmly when she took it. "It's nice to meet you. I'm one of AJ's counselors. He asked me to fill you in on his recovery before your visit."

"Oh," she said, forcing a smile as he directed her towards a wide hallway. "Well, I'd like to hear how he's doing." She hesitated. "And it's Ms. Webber now."

He blushed slightly as he nodded, but didn't apologize, moving right on to the subject of AJ's recovery. He spoke quickly, causing her to have a hard time to keeping up, and by the time they reached the common room where AJ was waiting, she had mostly learned that he was still struggling with guilt and the desire to drown it.

"Thank you," she said, relieved when she slipped into the room and the door closed behind them, thankful that they had been complete privacy.

AJ looked up from a chair where he was reading the paper and quickly tossed it aside and moved to his feet. "God, I've missed you," she sighed, rushing over and throwing her arms around his neck, breathing him in when he hugged her back. "You look…" She pulled away to look at him, grinning widely. "Like a new person."

"That's what you're supposed to say," he replied, rolling his eyes as he steered her towards the couch.

"No, you do," she insisted, lifting a hand to his face when he sat down beside her. His eyes were softer, his face less sullen, and he looked brighter – happier than she ever remembered. "Sobriety suits you."

Much to her relief, he chuckled at her joke, placing his hand over hers and pulling it into his lap. "I don't want to talk about me," he said, gently squeezing it. "How are you? And the baby?"

"I'm – I'm surviving," she laughed, patting her stomach gently, not surprised that her stomach was almost visible beneath her rumpled coat. "I'm still working and living at Kelly's, but I promised Brenda I would start looking for apartments the second she got back in town."

"That's good," he grinned, his eyes lingering on her belly as she held her hand in place. "I hope you're at least getting to enjoy this."

"I am," she confessed wryly, leaning back against the couch cushions. "The morning sickness has passed, and other than my feet being swollen by the end of the day, I feel pretty good. Right now, I'm just worrying about when the truth really comes out."

"Yeah," he sighed, squeezing her hand again. "Uh, Grandfather stopped by a few days ago."

"What?" she asked, sitting up and pulling her hand out of his. "But you weren't allowed visitors for thirty days."

"Quartermaines don't exactly follow the rules," he reminded her. "He asked if I knew about the baby."

"What did you tell him?" she asked, her fingers curling into her jacket.

"The truth," he shrugged, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "That's one of the first things they teach us here." She just looked at him, waiting for him to finish, too nervous to ask questions. "He's afraid you'll keep the baby from them." She should have known. "And he's worried that you want Jason to be a father to this child."

"I never said that," she groaned, knowing when he smiled that he hadn't believed Edward. "They wanted me to move in and live off of them. All I said was they would be involved with this child, but it would be on my terms. And I said they would have to be willing to support whatever decision Jason makes."

"You don't have to defend yourself, but I have to question you about Jason. I know you still love him Elizabeth, but Grandfather said he's working for Sonny now. Really working for him and-"

"It's complicated," she interrupted, knowing how completely insane she must sound to everyone around her, but there was no way to make them understand. They didn't see Jason the way she did. "And if I can question you about something – since when does Edward care to visit you?. I doubt he was just checking up on his grandson."

"It's complicated," he replied, arching his eyebrows at her.

"Fine," she sighed, clasping her hands in her lap. "I didn't come here to argue with you about Jason or your family. I'm here to support you in your recovery, which I'm glad you're taking so seriously…So, are you going to stay here for much longer? I know you have the option to stay or go, and staying might actually be-"

"I'm going," he interrupted, clearing his throat as he looked away. "I've already signed up for AA. I have a sponsor for when I leave here." She couldn't hide her surprise and her stomach churned when he continued to look away from her. "I can't lie to you."

"AJ, what…" she started to ask but couldn't.

"Grandfather has offered me the position of CEO at ELQ," he said hesitantly, starting to reach for her when she flinched. "I have to maintain my sobriety, which means AA and counseling. He's getting old and he wants to have someone prepared to run the company should something happen and…"

"You don't have to explain," she replied, adjusting her coat as she got up from the couch. "This is what you want – what you've always wanted-"

"Not if it hurts you." He grabbed her wrist when she started to walk away. "Elizabeth, I would never do something that would hurt you."

"I know," she nodded, gently pulling herself out of his grasp. Could he even see that Edward had offered him the job because of her? That he thought AJ was the only way to reach Elizabeth and her child? She should have seen this coming. After all, power was AJ's weak spot. "You've already accepted?"

"I signed the papers this morning," he replied, raking his fingers through his hair. "I know that Grandfather's being tough, but I can get him to lightenlet him up."

"How? He doesn't even trust you, AJ. Let's be realistic. He did this because he wants you to help get this baby – because he knows I'll let you be involved, but I'll pull the plug if he pulls his typical Quartermaine shit," she hissed, ignoring him when she started towards the door and he followed right after her.

"Elizabeth, wait," he cried, ignoring the orderly who called out to him from the desk when he followed her out the front door. "I'm trying to help."

"That's all you've ever done," she hissed, turning around and pointing a trembling finger at him. "So maybe you should just…stop."

**********

"Thanks for coming over," Sonny murmured, looking over his shoulder as Jason let himself into his living room. He held up his whiskey glass to offer him a drink, but, like always, he declined. "I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about some things."

Sighing, he rubbed his hand over his chin, taking a long swig of the whiskey, and wondering if he was actually going to go back on his word. He'd always been a man who lived by clean cut decisions, but nothing about Jason had ever really been that.

"Is it about work?" he asked, shrugging off his leather jacket and draping it over the couch arm. "I've been watching shipments come in for the past week, which is fine, but I thought…" He shrugged, not really knowing what his job would entail, only that after what happened in the city it had most definitely changed.

"It's been – what? Two months since your accident? Two and a half?" Sonny asked, motioning for him to sit. "You came to work for me not long after you were released – weeks even."

"Yeah," Jason agreed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, mostly used to pacing while his boss gave orders.

"You've done good work," he said seriously, swishing the dark liquid around in his glass. "I haven't seen someone as natural as you…" He cracked a dimpled smile as he took a long sip, enjoying how the whiskey burned his throat. "Well, since myself." He nodded, silently accepting the compliment. "I just want to know – things have changed a lot for you, and I want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," he shrugged, staring his boss in the face. It was thea trait that Sonny admired most; Jason was never afraid to look anyone in the eye. "I like working for you. I liked working in the warehouse. It was simple, repetitive, but I liked…I like being by your side, being with the other guards, more."

He wasn't surprised that Jason craved the attention, the interaction, and the respect that came with his position. The guards immediately started to treat him heroically, and he accepted their acclaim because he honestly felt like he'd done something right.

"This business his tough," he sighed, tapping his finger against the rim of his glass. "It's ruthless and difficult. You have to be able to act on your instincts and you can never regret any decision you make." He clucked his tongue as he narrowed his eyes at Jason, wondering if understanding would come now or later – when he couldn't go back. "Once you make the choice to stay in this business, you can _never_ get out."

Clearing his throat, he Sonny leaned forward. "I've been doing this for most of my life. I've made a lot of sacrifices, and sometimes the people I care about can't take the heat, and if they can't then they're targeted," he replied, not wanting to go into too many details. Surely, Jason had heard enough about his boss from the men at the warehouse. "I just – I want you to think about where your life will be in five years or ten. I know that you'll never be Jason Quartermaine again, but you can still want the same things as he did. You know, a wife, kids – a family without bullet proof windows and guns."

"You have to decide if this is right for you Jason, and I don't want the decision made because of me," he added, when the young man stayed silent, and he wondered if he'd offended him. "I just – I want you to think about this before you get in too deep."

"I appreciate you looking out for me," he replied earnestly, "but this is what I-"

"Excuse me, sir."

Sonny tipped his head towards the door when Max Giambetti, one of the many guards he kept at his home, poked his head in the door. "I'm in a meeting, Max," he scolded, not wanting to admit that he was thankful for the interruption. This wasn't a decision that Jason should mtake lightheartedly, but if he was anything like Sonny, he was going to jump in without hesitation. "Well, are you going to stand there or are you going to tell me what's so important-"

"There's a young woman here to see you," he interrupted hurriedly, tugging at his collar.

Sonny frowned, thinking first that he hadn't made any calls for any female visitors, but then he noticed the way Max's eyes dipped to the back of Jason's head. "I must have forgotten," he sighed, pushing himself up from the chair and holding his hand out to his employee. "I don't want you make a decision tonight. You should go for a ride, go have a drink, or just go home and think about it."

JasonHe started to argue, but nodded instead, starting across the room for the terrace doors and stopping when he noticed how his boss was looking at him. "I didn't think you'd want your – your date to see me or something."

"Ah, smart man," Sonny chuckled, cracking a relieved smile as Jason disappeared out the door. He turned back to Max and nodded for him to send his visitor in, not surprised when a sullen Elizabeth Webber appeared in the doorway. "I've been waiting to see you."

"What?" she asked, tucking her chocolate curls behind her ears as she stepped through the doorinto the room, and Max pulled it closed behind her.

"I didn't think it would take long for you to hear about Jason's movement in my business," he replied, walking back over to his buffet table and opening his decanter.

"Oh," she said, swallowing hard as she lingered aroundtowards the doorrway. "Well, I'm not here about that."

"You're not?" he asked, taking a bottle of water from his mini-bar – the only non-alcoholic drink he had easily available - and holding it out to her. She shook her head, and he returned it to its place, taking his glass of whiskey with him as he walked over to her. "I talked to Mike, and he said this would hurt you – the idea of Jason-"

"Picking up a gun?" she cut in, arching her eyebrows. "Yeah, it's not exactly going to help me sleep at night, but I have bigger worries than that." He admired her resolve;, how panicked she looked at the thought of Jason choosing this life, and how easily she shoved it aside. "You said if I needed anything you would help me."

"Yeah, always," he replied, sipping his whiskey.

"Okay," she nodded, folding her arms over her chest as she looked away from him. "I would have gone to Jax for this, but I wouldn't want Brenda to know, and I couldn't ask him to lie to his wife. It wouldn't be fair." He waited for her to go on. "I – I need some help. Some legal help…and a loan."


	14. Chapter 14

**[Prompt - "What I needed most was to love and to be loved, eager to be caught. Happily I wrapped those painful bonds around me; and sure enough, I would be lashed with the red-hot pokers or jealousy, by suspicions and fear, by burst of anger and quarrels." – St. Augustine]**

**Chapter 14**

_Early February _

"Jason?" Elizabeth called out, pushing the door to the penthouse halfway open, afraid that he was going to tell her to leave again. She'd given him a few hours to relax, to think about what had happened, and hopefully to forgive her. "Oh, God."

She swallowed hard as she closed the door, taking in the sight of the Christmas tree on its side, most of the decorations torn off, and piled onto the coffee table.

"The holidays are over."

"Jason," she sighed, pressing a hand to her mouth as she walked over to where he was sitting at the dining room table, his back to her. "I – I…"

No apology would be enough.

"I cleaned up the glass and the pictures," he murmured, shoving the stack of torn photographs towards the end of the table, stiffening as she grew closer.

"Thank you for not throwing them away," she said, surprised when he scooted his chair back, the legs scratching against the hardwood floor, digging permanent grooves into it. "I brought you something to eat." She held out the paper bag from the diner, flinching when he snatched it from her hand and tossed it down on the table.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. She was so used to this stance; one of unadulterated anger, but it was still hard to see him so upset. "You lied to me. I don't know if that makes you just like them or worse."

"I know that you're confused and hurting and-"

"You have no idea what I feel right now," he hissed spitefully, shaking his fist in the air as if trying to figure out what he was going to do. "You – you – I can't even look at you right now."

"Jason, please," she murmured, grabbing his arm when he turned away. She felt a tremor roll through his body, his jaw tightening when she held onto him. "I wasn't doing this for my benefit."

"You aren't really doing it for mine either," he pointed out, tipping his head towards her. There hadn't been much familiarity in his eyes before, but there was something hopeful about the way he looked at her – like he trusted her, and now all of that was gone. "I don't want to be your husband. I don't want anything to do with this – with you."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. It was such a drastic change from a few hours ago, and despite the lie, she couldn't figure out where he was coming from. "I never expected you to step into the role of my husband. I just – I wanted to know you – for you to know me." She couldn't stop herself from lifting a hand to his face, hating the way he flinched beneath her touch. "You don't have to be anyone to me, Jason. I just – I wanted to make sure you were okay. That you had what you needed and-"

"Stop," he growled, pulling her hand away, wrapping his own around her wrist as if to keep her from touching him again. "You thought that eventually I'd remember – that I'd recall every bittersweet moment and realize that I love you, but it's not going to happen."

"I know that," she murmured, unable to look away when his eyes hardened, filling with more disgust and hatred than she'd ever seen. She had to believe that somewhere in there…he understood this. "I'm not like everyone else."

"You are," he insisted, holding her wrist as tightly as she held his. "Lying for your own good. Wanting something – wanting me."

She hadn't lied for her good, but his and she knew with his anger he'd never see that. And she couldn't deny wanting him – wanting her husband, or rather, the man he'd become. It was unexplainable; her desire to protect him, to make him happy, and to give him the things he wanted, and she supposed that was why it was love.

"I'll always want – want you," she stammered softly, biting her lip. "No matter who you are."

"No," he said firmly, releasing her wrist and pushing her away. She stumbled on her feet and he started to reach for her, but stopped himself. "You want him or someone else – not me. That much is obvious."

"Jason, you don't-"

"Just get out!" he snarled, turning around and grabbing the iron candlestick that sat in the middle of the table. He flung it towards the balcony doors, busting the glass, and she grabbed his arm when he reached for another. She was no match for his strength, but her touch was enough to shake him, and he spun around, shoving her away. "You made me come here. You wanted me to see how I he lived. And I don't want any of it."

"I brought you here so you would have a place to stay," she cried, her chest heaving as she stumbled back against the wall. "Not so you could trash the place or my memories of him because you're so – so pissed off. It's okay to be angry, Jason, but this – it's not right."

"It's not?" he asked, stepping towards her.

"No, you want to ruin everything that he was a part of instead, and it's not – it's not fair!" she shouted, her own anger getting the best of her.

She'd been patient for weeks, kept herself up at night, terrified of what would happen when this moment came. And to think, she hadn't even dug to the deepest part of the truth; the ugly truth that would forever connect them.

"Not fair?" he snarled, looking around the room. "Bringing me here wasn't fair. Lying to me wasn't fair, Elizabeth. None of this is fair, but it-"

"Exactly, so you should do something about it!" she interrupted throwing her hands up at him. "Be angry about what happened – about the life that's not here, but god dammit, just do something beside smashing things – besides hurting the people who love you."

"You don't love me," he said, pointing his finger at her. "You love him. You want him. And this…" She shook her head, but he didn't give her the chance to argue as he closed in on her. "You want him? Your CEO with the Jaguar. The big bank account. The bored son of a bitch who comes home to the equally bored wife. You want me to be your husband, Elizabeth.?"

"You couldn't," she replied, pressing herself up against the wall as he braced his hand beside her head. "You couldn't be him if you tried, and you know it. Is that why you're breaking everything, you son of a-" His hand dropped to the side of her face, jerking her towards him as he crushed his mouth to hers, shoving her back against the wall as he kissed her hard, his tongue parting her lips without hesitation.

Her resolve broke as she relaxed against him, fisting her hands in his t-shirt, desperately craving the taste of his mouth. It was different than she remembered, but comforting nonetheless, and she wanted it for as long as he was willing to give it. She hissed when he raked his teeth over her lip, her body trembling when he bit her hard, obviously trying to hurt her. Sr, so she bit back just as hard, nipping at his lip harder than he had hers, satisfied when he swore and pulled away.

He swallowed hard, his fingers tangled in her curls as he pressed her against the wall, his eyes dark with a desire that was new to him – something he was trying to figure out how to handle. "Or maybe," he murmured, nuzzling the side of her face, his teeth nipping at her earlobe, "you just want a good fuck? Probably wouldn't be the first time, huh?"

"You wouldn't even know how," she hissed, loosening her grip on his shirt, prepared to duck beneath his arm, but he tightened his fingers in her hair, shoving her back against the wall.

He kissed her harder, his tongue sweeping over her lip, tracing an intricate path around her mouth as he pressed against her, shoving her legs apart with his knee. She responded just as eagerly, slipping her hands beneath his shirt, sucking in a breath when she felt him hardened more each time she rocked her hips against him.

It was wrong; the way they kissed one another, so desperate to prove something, but it also felt…right. How he undid the buttons of her coat with one hand, reaching beneath her shirt and slipping his hand beneath her bra with little fuss. The way he rolled the hardened peak between his fingers as he slammed his hips against hers, groaning into her mouth, low guttural sounds she'd never heard from him before.

And she supposed that was the real appeal; it was wildly exhilarating, the strange familiarity of his touch, but how it was also rougher, harder, more demanding.

She didn't hesitate as he undid the snaps of her jeans, shoving them down to her ankles along with her underwear before doing his own. Her hips parted anxiously, desperate for him to have her – to take her – to just feel something.

"Oh, God," she groaned, biting back a painful sob as he gripped her hips and thrust into her without a moment's notice.

She thought she was ready, that her need had taken over, but the first few thrusts were so hard, so rough as if he was forcing himself into a place deeper than she knew existed. Her eyes stung with tears, and she curled against him, digging her fingers into his shoulders as she pressed her face against his neck, waiting for pleasure to replace the pain.

He held one hand against her waist, pressing her to the wall as the other roamed over her; beneath her shirt to pinch her nipple, tugging angrily at her hair, cupping her cheek and forcing her to look at him as she slammed into her over and over. She barely recognized the sounds coming from her lips – raspy, fuck-me groans as she raggedly begged him not to stop. His name came out in a sob as he slammed into her at the right angle, causing her body to jerk and tremble in his arms, his fingers curling into her hair to hold her so he could watch her face. He smirked satisfyingly as he pumped his own release, slumping against her and his hand skimming his hand from her hip to her thigh to help lower her feet to the floor, and helping her feet touch the floor.

She dropped her head to his shoulder, her fingers aching from how tightly she'd held onto him, and briefly, he nuzzled the side of her face, his lips brushing over her cheekbone before he slid out of her and stepped back.

"I want a divorce."

**********

"Yes, thank you, Diane," Elizabeth murmured, shifting her paint palette between her hands as she held the phone against her ear with her shoulder.

"_You do realize what exactly the Quartermaines are attempting to do here, right?" _

"I do," she sighed, nibbling her lip as she gave up and set the palette down on the table next to her easel. "I don't care about any of that. I just want my baby to be safe."

"_Well, I assure you that you have nothing to worry about in that aspect.… Now mMay I give you the tiniest bit of advice?"_

"Of course."

Just as Sonny had promised, Diane had been more than kind to her over the past couple of days, and there was no question as to why he kept the woman on as his defense council. She was incredibly kind, but equally ruthless, which allowed Elizabeth to relax for the first time in a while.

She'd even asked for a couple of free shifts so she could spend the time at her studio, focusing on herself – though, and the doctor telling her that her blood pressure was still high may have had something to do with that too.

"_Tell Jason, Elizabeth. I know it's none of my business, but once we have a hearing, rumors are going to start. I doubt he'll be called into it because even Edward won't won't want to face him in this state, but…" _

"I will," she replied, sinking down onto the arm of her musty couch. "I will soon…okay."

_"I'm not pressuring you. I'm just afraid things could be more difficultdifficult for you if you don't." _

"I know and I appreciate that so much," she said sincerely, smoothing her hand over her stomach. "Look, I'm going to finish up here and work on figuring things out."

"_Remember not to worry. I have everything under control." _

"Thanks again," she murmured, snapping her cell phone closed and tossing it down onto the couch. She took a deep breath as she rubbed her belly, not sure of where to even begin.

AJ had called her ten times in the past two days, even showinged up at the diner and Mike had to run him off. She wasn't angry at him for choosing ELQ. It was what he always wanted, but until things were sorted out with his family, she had to avoid him. She only hoped he understood why she was and wasn't too upset. She didn't want to be an added stress in his life when he was stepping out of rehab and into so many others.

And she didn't even know where to begin with Jason, only knowing that Diane was right. He was going to find out eventually and regardless of whether he wanted anything to do with her or this child, she wanted him to hear about it from her. Only that meant admitting to another lie and her first one had forced caused him to hate her.

"I know this is hard, probably harder on you because of me," she whispered, slipping her hand beneath her shirt and resting her hand against her bare stomach. "But I promise that everything is going to be okay. No matter what happens, you will always have me."

**********

"You're quiet today," Carly purred, propping her head against her hand as she ran a slender finger down the middle of his chest, causing him to shiver.

"I've got a lot on my mind," he replied, rolling his head away from her, closing his eyes as he tried not to think.

Usually Carly was good for blocking out whatever was on his mind and replacing it with mind-blowing sex. He didn't have to think when he was with her. I, it was just like going through the motions – very pleasing motions.

When they were finished, heHe rolled onto his back, closed his eyes and fell asleep. Sometimes she curled up against his side or others she just quietly left him alone, though the latter wasn't happening very much recently.

"Being a big bad boy isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?" she teased, skimming her hand between his legs. He caught her hand before she touched him and drew it back to his chest. "What gives, Jason?"

"I'm tired," he sighed, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and reaching for his jeans that had been tossed onto the floor. "You should go."

"I get it," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she sat up behind him. He stiffened when she ran her hands up his back to his shoulders, squeezing lightly, and he groaned when he felt her breasts pressed against him. He rolled his head from side to side as she moved to her knees, gently kneading his shoulders. "I won't ask anymore questions, okay? I have the entire day off, and I know that you're taking some time to figure out whatever it is that Sonny's offered you, so why not make the most of it."

Groaning, he relaxed beneath her hands, not wanting to give in, but maybe another round _would_ work it out. She tugged his earlobe between her teeth, hissing when he reached around to fist his hand in her hair, and dropped his jeans back to the floor. Her hands slid around to his chest as she stretched to meet his mouth, moaning when he nipped her lip as he turned around and rolled them down onto the mattress, desperate to feel something even if it was just the release that came with a quick fuck.

He sat back on his knees, jerking her legs apart, prepared to just give it to her when there was a knock on the door. "Son of a bitch," he snarled, getting up from the bed and jerking his pants on as he walked over to the door. "Who is it?"

"Jason? It's me – it's Elizabeth. I really need to talk you – just for a minute."

"Fuck," he muttered, looking over at Carly who had rolled onto her side, tapping a finger impatiently against her hip. "This isn't a good time."

"Please."

Maybe it was the vulnerability in her voice or the idea that he could use a good fight – something rough and loud, something that made his blood boil.

"Get dressed," he growled, picking up the blonde's various articles of clothing and tossing them onto the bed. She frowned, preparing to argue with him, but he narrowed his eyes, and she reached for her clothes. "I'll call you later, okay?"

She rolled her eyes as she tugged her jeans on and got up from the bed. "Whatever," she muttered, slipping her feet into her shoes.

"I said, I'll call you," he repeated, grabbing her by the arm when she started towards the door. He jerked her against him, nuzzling the side of her face before seizing his mouth with hers, kissing harder than he ever had before. "So I'll call you."

She grinned against his mouth as she pressed against him, slipping a hand between their bodies to stroke his erection through his jeans. "See you later, Jase," she said, turning around to open the door, stopping long enough to grin smugly at his ex-wife before heading for the stairs.

"I didn't realize I was interrupting," Elizabeth murmured, dropping her gaze to the floor as if she couldn't bear to look at him.

"You're always interrupting," he replied, bracing himself against the doorway as he loomed over her. "What do you want?"

"To talk," she shrugged, tugging nervously at the front of her coat. "Please. Just five minutes."

"Yeah," he sighed, stepping side and waving her into the room. "I've got something I need to talk about too."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows arched as she stepped inside, eyes darkening when they landed on the rumpled bed sheets. Her gaze shifted to the nightstand, nose wrinkling at the used condom in the ashtray on the nightstand as she turned to look at him.

"Why were you at Sonny's the other night?" he asked, waiting for her to deny it. Her eyes widened, lips parting in protest, only to close again. "I saw your car in the driveway."

"You were there?" she asked, cradling her face in her hands. "You're his wing – wingman now. Of course you were there."

"I'm nothing," he replied, giving her a few minutes to answer, but she just rubbed her face, too afraid to look at him. "Elizabeth." He reached out and tugged one of her hands away, waiting until she dropped her hand and looked up at him. "Why were you there?"

"Sonny and I-"

"You and Sonny?" he repeated, shaking his head as he chuckled. "Wow, you get-"

"Oh, it's not like that." Her eyes hardened as she looked at him. "He and I – I work for his father."

"You deliver for Kelly's now?" he asked, not surprised when she started past him for the door.

"I shouldn't have come here. You're not worth the trouble, Jason," she muttered, her hand barely touching the doorknob before he grabbed her arm and turned her around. "You're not worth the trouble, Jason."

"Then why are you here?" he challenged, loosening his hold on her arm. She could walk away if she wanted, but he knew she wouldn't. "You didn't answer my question, unless there's no way to lie your way-"

"You never really give me a chance to speak the truth," she cut in, pulling her wrist away as she looked up at him. "I went to Sonny because I needed _something_. I would have gone elsewhere, but…I didn't really have anywhere else to go. I did the same thing you did when you needed help."

"Whatever," he shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Just get to the fucking point, so I can get back to what I was doing."

She flinched at his words as if the idea of him having casual sex was the most hurtful thing in the world. "Don't you get tired of that?" she asked softly. "A good time doesn't last forever."

"Neither do husband and wife," he replied smugly, grabbing her wrist when her hand flew towards his face. She had more attitude today than he ever remembered. Something had happened – hurt her, made her angry, and it wasn't just the fact that she'd caught him with Carly. "I doubt you came here to start a fight, so do something or get the fuck out."

"I definitely didn't come here for _other_ things," she said, swallowing hard as she looked at him. "I – I needed…"

She shook her head and looked away, standing close enough for his her hair to tickle his arm, and he sucked in a breath at the delicate touch. Sometimes when he was close to her, he could smell her hair, her skin, remember how it felt beneath his touch, and he hated that he ever let himself get inside her.

"You need to leave," he muttered, reaching past her to open the door.

"Do you always have to make things so difficult?" she asked, her lips quivering as she stepped in front of him to close the doorit. "I'm trying to talk to you, but you make it so difficult. You make _everything_ so difficult."

"And where do you think I learned that from?" he asked, rolling his eyes as he braced one of his hands against the door, glaring down at her.

The stance was awkwardly familiar, and she blushed as she looked down at the floor, clearly remembering. She practically let him do anything he wanted, say anything he felt like, and she never fought him, choosing to walk away from him in tears every time. It was a strange feeling of control – knowing that he couldn't really break her, failing to decide if he really wanted to because really, he just wanted her all he wanted was for her to know the type of anger that ate her up inside.

To feel the same way as him.

He couldn't resist reaching out and undoing the buttons of her frumpy coat, surprised when she didn't stop him. She swallowed hard as he skimmed his fingers up the length of her jacket, hesitating at the collar before tugging it off her shoulder. "Do you still need something?" he asked, slipping his hand behind her neck and tipping her head back. "Because if not you _need_ to go."

"Jason," she murmured softly, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. "I – I…" She sighed when he ran his hand down her arm, slipping it beneath her coat. She jerked against him when he grazed her stomach, the back of his hand skimming across her lower belly as she pushed him away.

"Get out," he said, shaking his hand out as if he'd touched something he didn't want to. And he had; forgetting about what was there, why he couldn't stand to look at her, all because he suddenly remembered what it was like to be close to her. He should have just told her go to hell and fucked Carly. "Get the fuck hell out."

"I – I – please," she stammered, leaning against the door as she cradled her belly in one hand, his fist clenching at how swelled it was beneath her shirt. "Jason, let me-"

"No," her snarled, jerking her coat over her shoulder as he pulled her away from the door. He tore it open, shoving her into the hallway as he shook his head. "Stay the fuck away from me."


	15. Chapter 15

**[Prompt – How did I get into this and how do I get out of it again, how does it end? – Soren Kierkegaard]**

**Chapter 15**

_Early February _

Elizabeth wondered if Jason knew he had humiliated her, or worse, if that was exactly what he was trying to do.

To be fair, she'd wanted it, even if it was for all the wrong reasons, she'd wanted it. She wanted to remember the taste of his mouth, his hands on her skin, but she never imagined it would be _that_ different.

Rougher.

Harder.

Faster.

Satisfying in a way that she couldn't quite describe.

That was until her feet touched the floor again, and he was zipping up his jeans, looking at her as if she could have been anybody. And the saddest realization was that she was in no way special to him.

She was someone else's lover, wife, and friend. Someone else's everything and to try and even touch that with him hadn't been fair to either of them, but she didn't regret it. Honestly, she probably would have let him have her over and over again because it had been the first time since the accident that she actually felt something.

Whether it was good or bad was yet to be determined, but in this moment she knew she would never take it back. And something told her he wouldn't either. Maybe it was how eagerly he kissed her, how his hands stroked her in all the right places, and how she felt him hesitate until she held on, begging him for it.

Of course, now it further complicated things for them and her lies, and as she tugged her pants back over her hips and hurried from the penthouse, his requesting burning into her brain, she wondered if maybe he was right.

Maybe she had lied to him for all the reasons he believed.

Anyone in her position would want their husband back, would wait with baited breath for his eyes to open and hear that he loved her, but that hadn't happened. And obviously, it wasn't ever going to because he was _not_ her husband.

Despite what she told herself, she hadn't really accepted it, and often thought of the child she was carrying, how it was something that could bring him back to her. Only he wouldn't remember conceiving it or wanting it and it didn't seem fair to use biology to push him into fatherhood.

That was how she'd ended up here; three hours from town, hands pressed to her belly as she sat in a quiet clinic, her eyes and on theglaring at tiled floor. The more she thought about it, the more this seemed like the reasonable choice. She was alone, her entire existence wound into a man who no longer existed, and holding onto this child because she wanted him to come back to her was wrong. And she just couldn't do it.

She didn't even know if she _wanted_ it.

"Mrs. Quartermaine?"

Her head snapped up to see a nurse standing across the waiting area wearing a forced smile as she clutched a file. Elizabeth couldn't tell if she knew who she was or if she recognized the her last name, but she felt like she did. There really wasn't anywhere she could go where her name, her husband, and her entire family's existence wouldn't follow.

Taking a deep breath, she ignored the prying eyes of the other women in the waiting women room and pushed herself up from the chair, her purse clutched tightly in her fist. She tried to imagine the stories of the other girls as she passed them; if they couldn't afford it, if they just simply didn't want a child, or if they too were afraid of doing it alone. There were so many reasons that women did this, reasons she now understood, and she found some sort of comfort in knowing that she wasn't alone.

"Right here," the nurse said, waving her into the first open door they came frotom. She started asking Elizabeth questions about her medical history and made notes in her chart as she Elizabeth answered robotically, her voice sounding unfamiliar. "Alright, I'll be back in just a second." She handed her a gown that was sitting on the counter. "If you'll just slip this on while I'm gone. And when I get back, we'll go over the procedure, sign some papers, and then you'll be all set."

"Okay," she nodded, smoothing her hands over the thin gown as she waited for the nurse to disappear out the door. She nibbled her lip as she stared at it, committing the tiny blue and white squares to memory, taking in how rough it felt in her hands.

_You'll be all set. _

She repeated the nurse's words over and over as she slowly undid the buttons on her coat, carefully laying it on the chair in the corner before moving on to her sweater. Her fingers trembled, causing her to fumble with the buttons as her eyes filled with tears.

She was standing in an abortion clinic far from everything she'd every known. Her life, her art, her friends – they were all distant pieces of who she used to be. She could have asked AJ to drive her like he had before, Brenda too, but deep down she didn't think they would understand understood. The only person who did, who could make her feel better, was no longer here.

"Jason," she whispered, swallowing the sob that wanted to follow.

He'd wanted this child more than most men ever wanted one; to be a father, to care for a life, and he would have been so incredible at it. Really, it was the only reason she'd given in and wanted a child. She never thought motherhood would suit her; that she was too awkward and too dependent to take care of someone, but Jason made her believe it was possible. Like always, he believed in her and replaced her fears with his sheer admiration, always reminding her how she had changed his life, and how she would do the same for their child.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her fingers abandoning the buttons as they fell to her stomach. She'd been so scared of moving forward and letting go, of raising a child without him that she'd already set herself up for failure. She pressed her palms harder against her stomach, thinking of how different things could have been, but mostly how they didn't have to end this way either.

**********

"Whoa," Sonny murmured, holding his hands up as he steppedstepping into Jason's penthouse, his eyes widening as they sweepswepting over the room. He was used to seeing a state of disarray; furniture moved about, clothing tossed on the floor, beer bottles and pizza boxes left to smell and rot.

This, however, was complete destruction.

When Jasonhe'd divorced Elizabeth, he had packed up a lot of things, leaving the furniture and a few miscellaneous items around for reasons unbeknownst to Sonny. And Tthose few things were now torn apart. The coffee table was on its side, pictures torn from the walls, and a couple of dining room chairs broken apart. Glass covered the floor along with beer bottles and shards of wood.

"What the hell happened here?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked over to where Jason was leaning against the doorway to the balcony. It was open, allowing the cool spring air into the penthouse. "Jason-"

"Elizabeth is pregnant."

Sonny sucked in a breath, his hand covering his mouth as he stopped just behind Jason, unsure of what to say.

"She – she came to see me yesterday," he continued, taking a sip of his beer before busting the bottle against the floor. "She – she was upset.… She's _always_ upset." He rubbed a fist over his face as he shook his head. "I wanted – I thought – I touched her. And I _felt_ it."

Jason's fist fell from his face, his hand unclenching as he fingers reached and fingers reaching out as if playing the memory in his mind.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked, keeping his back to Sonny. It worried him that he couldn't see Jason's face, read his eyes. He'd always been so good at masking what he felt with and the tone of his voice.

"I knew," he confirmed, prepared for Jason to turn on him, to release all his anger in one sittingat once.

"That's why she came to see you a few days ago." He Jason turned slowly in the doorway as if the movementmoving pained hurt him.

"She needed some help," he replied cautiously.

There would come a point where Jason would spin out of control. This was a truth most men were never prepared to hear and his situation made it worse.

Jason Morgan wouldn't want to be a father; especially to a child he would never remember conceiving.

"You helped her," he nodded, hanging his head.

"I understand if you're angry," Sonny said, his stomach churning. There was no way he could apologize for lying to Jason because he'd do it all over again, but still…

"I'm not angry…because of that," he replied, slowly lifting his eyes to his boss. "I just – I don't want this. I don't want any of this." He pushed himself away from the doorway, snatching another beer from the table. It was the second to last of a case and Sonny wondered how many the man had drank and how many had been busted throughout the penthouse. "I don't remember being him or being with her…and now…"

His fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle, his knuckles turning white, and Sonny half expected the bottle to break in Jason'sthe man's hands. "I don't want anything to do with any of it."

"You don't have to do anything," Sonny replied seriously, shrugging it off. "Elizabeth isn't asking you to be a father. She isn't asking for money or your help. She's just trying to do what's best for her child."

"It's not that easy," he hissed, gritting his teeth.

He sighed, trying to imagine what it was like to be Jason – to be faced with a world that he knew nothing about, to have someone like Sonny trying to guide him, and to be too angry to admit that he was terrified.

"No," Sonny agreed, frowning heavily, "it's not."

**********

Elizabeth didn't like to think about that day, how the day she'd gone to the clinic and almost gotten rid of her baby – the baby that was now starting to move gently inside hernow kicked and moved gently inside her.

Sometimes she tried to imagine herself twenty years from now, confessing her sins as her child stared back at her.

Sometimes it hurt so much she couldn't breathe.

"Elizabeth." She tipped her head towards the back door of the diner, stiffening as if he could hear her thoughts. "Mike said you were taking a break."

"Long day," she sighed, forcing a smile as Sonny pulled grabbed one of the crates from the stack near the door and walked over to her.

He set it down beside her, unbuttoning his coat for comfort before sitting down, obviously not caring about dirtying his designer suit. "Diane called me."

"Oh," she murmured, her eyes widening.

"She didn't tell me anything," he said seriously, propping his elbow on his knee. "That's between you and her, but she said things went easier than expect – that you cut a deal with the Quartermaines."

"It wasn't really a deal," she shrugged, stretching her legs out as she leaned back against the brick building, and her hands smoothed her handsing over her stomach.

Jason knew the truth now, and she'd given up on hiding. She wore a tighter shirt and an apron that didn't cover her from the neck to her knees, hoping that the transition would be easy, but she hadn't counted on the stares and whispers of the customers. Everyone already knew her story and this was yet another piece chapterfor the gossip mill.

She'd lasted about forty minutes into her shift, during which she managed to spill two cups of coffee (one in a customer's lap) and and drop three trays of food. Mike had understood what was wrong and told her that maybe she should take the morning off, which prompted her to burst into tears and storm off to her room.

Mike hadHe'd come upstairs about an hour later to apologize, and she told him it was unnecessary. She needed to hold herself together if she was going to continue working. She just hated being stared at, hated the whispers that came when she turned her back.

Honestly, tThe moment she saw Sonny, she had expected him to ask questions; what had happened at the diner, how things had gone with Jason, and what she would do next. And instead, he was just…waiting.

"Anyway," she shrugged, turning her head towards him. "I just wanted to make sure they would leave my baby and me alone – that they wouldn't try to take it. You and Diane made that happen."

"Good," he nodded, sounding relieved. "I'm really happy that I could help you and if you need anything-"

"I don't," she interrupted softly, leaning forward to pick her apron up from the ground. She shook it out and dug through the pocket for a thin wad of money. "This isn't much, but I do intend to pay back every cent."

"Elizabeth, I can't," he said, waving a hand at her. "I don't want your money."

She'd expected this. "Sonny, you gave me a loan, and I am going to repay, so take the money." He shook his head, and she sighed, tossing the money towards him. "Take it."

"You're stubborn," he grinned, picking up the wad as it rolled to a stop at his feet. He rolled it back and forth between his palms. "I don't want you to pay me back. Take this and buy something for your baby – for yourself. You don't owe me anything."

"I owe you for a lot," she insisted, holding her hands up when he held the money out to her. He shook his head and swore under his breath. "I mean it – you've been good to me…and Jason."

His jaw ticked as he pushed himself up from the crate and looked, looking down at her. "I guess you know what he's been doing – that he's working for me now." She nodded, having understood long ago that working in the warehouse and working for Sonny were two very different kinds of jobs. "Elizabeth, then you and I both know I haven't done Jason any favors."

There was a strange remorse in his eyes as if he'd done something wrong. "I'm not looking for an apology," she said, getting up from the crate and tying her apron around her waist. "And I know that your job is dangerous. That it's putting a gun in my ex-husband's hand, but he trusts you – you give him a safe place."

"Do you realize how crazy that sounds?" he asked, his dimples peeking out as he grinned.

"Not as crazy as the fact that I don't care," she replied, straightening her apron as she shrugged. "I love him. No matter who he is or what he does – I will always love him. And if I have to love a man who chooses to work for you then…" She shrugged again, knowing how absolutely insane she must have sounded. "Before I would have told anyone you were an awful man, a killer even, but…I think I'm seeing another side – something other than _Sonny Corinthos_."

He chuckled, looking down at her money that he was still clutching in his fist. "If word gets out, I'll be in trouble."

"Your secret's safe with me," she grinned, surprised by how good it felt to smile and enjoy a moment. It was nice not to think about everything else. "Can I ask you something?" He nodded curiously. "How did you do it? _Become_ Sonny Corinthos?"

She realized how strange the question sounded, but when she thought about it, there had to be a man that he used to be, one before this transition. "I keep looking at what my life was and what it is now," she added, nibbling her lip. "I see who I am and compare it who I was or who I was supposed to be…"

"I did what I had to in order to survive," he replied honestly, taking a deep breath. She couldn't help but think that was where they were alike,alike; maybe even what drew him to help her. "I – I came from nothing. Mike – my father and I never saw eye-to-eye. He liked to gamble, liked to drink, liked to do anything except be part of his family. We've gotten past it and moved on, and I don't blame him for setting me on this path, but I found it because of him."

"My mother – she worked hard," he continued, his dark eyes softening. "She paid his bills, her bills, took care of me, but it wasn't always enough, so I started by running numbers as a teenager. One day I was a seventeen- year- old boy and now I'm old and in charge." He cracked a grin, laughing to himself. "You sort of remind me of her – my mother. How she was so passionate, so determined to stand on her own two feet. She loved my father hard, but when he turned his back on her, she made her own life. And she worked hard for what she wanted and she didn't want any handouts."

"So she would repay a debt?" Elizabeth asked, trying to hide how much it touched her that he saw his mother in her.

He laughed, tossing his head back as he started towards the door, carefully slipping her money into his pants pocket. "Point taken."

"Sonny," she called after him, smiling when he looked over his shoulder at her. "Your mother – was she happy?"

It was a loaded question, one that could have taken lots of time to answer, but she didn't care about the in-betweens or that he was clearly speaking about his mother in past tense. She needed a simple answer to help her push through.

He nodded as he pulled open the door. "Yeah. Despite everything, she was really happy."


	16. Chapter 16

**[Prompt – "Pleasure of love lasts but a moment, pPain of love lasts a lifetime."**** – B****ette Davis]**

**Chapter 16**

_Mid-February _

"We need to talk."

"I've tried talking to you," Elizabeth murmured, wiping her paint clad fingertips against her shirt as she leaned against the door. "You never want to listen."

"You don't say anything worth hearing," Jason replied, sliding an envelope from his pocket and thrusting it towards at her. "You forgot this when you moved."

She hesitated before wrapping her fingers around the thin stack of folded papers. "You can get a lawyer if you want. I'm sure Diane won't mind explaining the process to you. Just sign. You can have whatever the hell you want as long you sign the fucking papers." He arched his eyebrows as he pulled a pen from his front pocket. "In case you needed one."

"Do I get a chance to talk?" she asked, turning the envelope around in her hands.

"Are you going to actually say something?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Shrugging, she slipped back into her tiny studio, leaving the door open, as if expecting him to follow. He hesitated, having never been there before, following only to make sure she signed the damned papers.

Despite what she thought, he was trying to make this easy for both of them. He packed her things and had some of Sonny's men move them. He went to the lawyer and was willing to give Elizabeth whatever she wanted.

And she'd mostly just cried.

Sometimes she tried to explain her reasoning behind keeping secrets, but he could never hear them. He didn't care that she was trying to protect him or that she wanted him to have a place to go because he n ever asked her for any of those things. She had offered to drive him that day at the Quartermaines, which would have been the opportune time to mention she was his wife and end this entire debacle.

Instead, she was quiet.

She was always so fucking quiet.

Even after he'd yelled at her, told her to leave, and fucked her against the wall when she didn't – she was just quiet. Sometimes he thought about how she'd just pulled her jeans back over her hips and buttoned her coat, hurrying out of the penthouse without so much as a single word. Not out of fear or grief, but because she felt sorry for the defenseless brain-damaged manbastard.

Because she loved him.

And wanted to save him.

All things he hadn't asked for, so he didn't really give a damn if she was hurting. He hadn't asked her to do anything for him, but he'd expected to be able to trust her. She made it seem so easy – made it seem like he could trust hercould, that she wasn't like everyone else.

"You would have never trusted me if I told you I was your wife," she said, setting the envelope down on one of the counters, which acted as a kitchen.

He couldn't imagine she had it easy in her new home; a filthy sink and hot plate, a tiny bathroom in the corner of the room, and a musty old couch with a few blankets. There were boxes everywhere – she'd yet to unpack her things or her husband's because he'd gotten rid of all them too. He'd thought about throwing them away, setting them on fire even, but he found himself dropping them into boxes.

If she wanted to live with the ghost of the past that was fine by him – as long as she signed the fucking divorce papers.

"So, you lie for your own benefit?" he asked, lingering towards the door. She pressed her lips together, clearly unsure of what to say. "You can't even answer me."

"It's complicated," she replied, leaning against the counter and bracing her hands on either side of her. "I'm trying here, Jason because I – I don't know what's like to be you – what it's like to feel so many new things all at once."

He rubbed his hand exhaustedly over the back of his neck, his gaze falling to the floor. No one could understand what it was like to be him.

Hell, he couldn't even figure out what he was feeling.

"I don't feel anything," he muttered, lifting his eyes to hers.

"Now who's lying?" she asked, looking away when his eyes darkened.

"I never lied to you," he said seriously, pressing his clenched fists together as he stared at her. "I don't even know anything to lie about. I just – I just want to be left alone."

"Shutting yourself off won't make things any better," she replied, shaking her head. "You need to be around people – to interact, to figure out-"

"I'm around people," he interrupted, rolling his eyes. "I just don't want to be around you."

"You can push everyone who cares about you away," she said slowly, taking a deep breath when he stepped towards her. He knew she wasn't afraid or that she didn't want him close, but that she was afraid of what he might do. He could pretend all he wanted – could deny what had happened, but he couldn't forget how it _felt_. And he hated that she knew that. "But it won't make you any less of who you were or who you are, and it won't make it easier on anyone, especially yourself."

"You sound like the counselors the Quartermaines made me see," he replied, picking the envelope up from the counter.

He only made it to the hospital for a few sessions before he grew tired of listening to how he needed to let himself feel things. Dr. Winters told him over and over that it was okay to be angry – to hate what had happened, but that he couldn't let anger mask everything else that he'd felt.

Yeah, that was easy for her to say.

"I don't feel anything," he repeated, shoving the papers into her hands again. "Especially for you, so sign the fucking papers."

**********

"So, I brought your favorite," Brenda said, pulling a pint of Vanilla Bean ice cream from a paper bag after letting herself into Elizabeth's studio. "But I thought you might need something stronger, so… Chunky Monkey."

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed exhaustedly, taking the pint of ice cream and a plastic spoon. She walked over to the couch and plopped down, tossing the lid onto the coffee table. "This might be just what I need."

Brenda frowned, but tried not to let her see it as she crumpled up the paper bag and tossed it into the garbage can. She hadn't seen Elizabeth in nearly two weeks – damn her husband for having a business that required world travel. Her presence as the billionaire's wife was always expected so she could rub elbows with his business partners and charm them with the right dress and smile.

Normally, the trips didn't bother her, but it was frustrationg to be so far away from her friend when Brenda knew she needed her. Jax would have let her stay in Port Charles without so much as a care, but knew it let him down to go alone. Sure, he was busy with work for ten hours of the day, but when he wasn't, he wanted nothing more than to be with her.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here," she apologized, digging her spoon into the ice cream as she walked over to the couch.

She'd called Elizabeth when she'd returned to Port Charles, surprised to find out everything that had happened while she was gone. Jason knew about the baby now, which hopefully meant Brenda got a free pass anytime he looked at Elizabeth the wrong way. The Quartermaines had been forced to back off for reasons she didn't exactly know, but Elizabeth insisted it had been handled. And AJ had finally become an ELQ succubus.

"Don't worry about it," she Elizabeth shrugged, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She ate it thoughtfully before sinking back into the couch and looking over at her. "I don't want to talk about anything today."

"Okay," she agreed, nibbling at the tiny bite she'd scooped onto her spoon.

It was impossible for her not to worry for Elizabeth. Her friend looked exhausted, ragged even, her skin flushed and not glowing as it normally did., the physical of this entire situation becoming more and more apparent. Her swollen belly made it obvious that she'd gain weight, but that was the only change she'd seenshe could see.

"Brenda," she warned, noticing how her friend was looking her over.

"I'm sorry," she shrugged, poking her spoon around her ice cream. "I just…Elizabeth…"

"What?" she glared, dropping her eyes to her lap, failing to hide her tears.

"Honey, don't get upset," she murmured, scooting closer and slipping her arm around her shoulder. "I just – I know you went to the doctor while I was gone and…"

Elizabeth nodded as she took a deep breath. "Um, I'm getting ready to start my fifth month," she replied robotically, sounding as if she'd prepared this speech. "Sometimes I think I feel the baby moving and Dr. Lee says that's normal. And uh, she's worried about my blood pressure, how hard I work, but says that if I stay relaxed, everything should be okay."

"Except you don't know how to relax," Brenda murmured, twisting one of Elizabeth's curls around her fingertip.

"I'm trying," she insisted, leaning into the crook of Brenda's arm when she pulled her against her. "It's just hard."

"I can't even begin to understand how hard it is," she replied, hugging her tightly as she smoothed her hand up and down her back. "And I know it's unfair of me to tell you that you need to relax, that things shouldn't bother you-"

"So maybe you shouldn't," Elizabeth interrupted, sitting up and looking at her. "Please, don't be like everyone else."

"Me?" she asked dramatically, placing her hand on her chest. "Brenda Barrett is not like everyone else." She was relieved when Elizabeth laughed and rolled her eyes. "I wasn't going to tell you to relax by any means, but I do want to give you a tiny piece of advice – something that I want you to promise me."

"What's that?" she asked, leaning forward to sit her ice cream on the coffee table, clearly getting no comfort from it whatsoever from it.

"Well…" Brenda started, shifting on the couch to slide her knees beneath her. "Promise me that every once in a while, say once a day…you'll stop and you'll forget about everything except this baby." She reached over and touched Elizabeth's stomach with the back of her hand. "That you'll think about what you have here and how it's really a miracle and nothing else really matters, but this."

Elizabeth nodded, taking a deep breath as she looked down at her belly.

"It's already been five four whole months," she continued seriously, "and you shouldn't spend your entire pregnancy worrying or stressing out. You should get to enjoy this, so promise me you will, even if it's just for five minutes every day."

She sighed, slowly lifting her tear-filled eyes. "I promise, Bren."

"Good," she grinned, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. "Now that we've got that out of the way, I can tell you about my trip."

"I was hoping you were going to get to that," Elizabeth laughed, reaching for her ice cream.

"The only question is where to begin," she sighed, reaching into her back pocket and slipping the velvet box into her fist. "Like how Jax almost fought a Parisian at the Eiffel Tower or how he got food poisoning the third day of our trip. Or maybe…I should just give you the shiny diamond earrings I picked up from an antique shop."

"What?" she gasped, her mouth falling open when she tossed her the box.

Elizabeth shook her head as she opened it, but Brenda wasn't having it. "They reminded me of you. Something classy and sophisticated, and I knew the moment you put them on, you'd feel fabulous," she said seriously, helping her pull the sparkly, square diamonds from the box. "And honey, you deserve to feel fabulous."

**********

"Okay," Elizabeth sighed, easing herself down on the edge of her bed. She stretched her legs out in front of her, trying to ignore how much her feet hurt after her shift, and how badly she wanted nothing more than to lie in bed and cry herself to sleep. "I don't really know how to do this."

Closing her eyes, she slipped her hands beneath her shirt, gently cradling her stomach. "Brenda had a point though, but you probably already know that," she murmured, stroking her belly. "Sometimes I'm afraid that in the mess of all of this, you might not feel wanted or loved, and that upsets me more than anything. I haven't necessarily made the best choices or done the right thing, but I love you, and I want you more than I have ever wanted anything."

She sucked in a breath, her eyes filling with tears when she felt a steady flutter low in her stomach. "We're going to be okay," she whispered, grinning as the movement continued. "But I think you know that already."

She started to scoot back further on the bed, suddenly appreciating Brenda more than she ever had before when there was a knock on the door. She glanced at the clock as she got up from the bed, assuming it was Mike because the building was already locked.

"Coming," she called out, snatching her robe from the hook on the bathroom door, shrugging it over her t-shirt, and tying the belt in a hurry. She glared at the door when the knocking continued, realizing that it was definitely not Mike. Her fist clenched as she reached for the lock, her body resisting her actions, but of course she won out, and opened the door to find Jason standing in the hallway.

His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his head ducked exhaustedly, and for a moment, he looked so small in his leather jacket. His eyes lifted to hers, darkened to that shade of blue she'd yet to become familiar with. "We need to talk."

"It's late," she said, her hand falling protectively to her stomach, and then falling away when he glared at her.

"We _need_ to talk," he repeated, staring at her until she stepped aside and let him into the room.

"You told me to stay away," she murmured quietly, closing the door and hoping that none of the other tenants were listening through the thin wallscould hear through the walls. "So I did."

"You would have come to see me again," he said smugly, looking around her tiny room. "I figured I would come before you had the chance." She arched her eyebrows in surprise. "This way I can be the one to leave."

"Of course," she nodded, folding her arms over her chest and looking at him expectantly. "Well...? You said you wanted to talk."

"No, I said we needed to," he corrected, narrowing his eyes at her stomach in a way that made her want to turn away and, to hide.

"Fine," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "What do you want to talk about, Jason?" She was beyond exhausted, too on edge to deal with him tonight, even if he had a point – they had to talk eventually.

"You're – you're…" He sucked in a breath, his lips quivering as he spoke. "You're pregnant." She just nodded, not sure what elseshe to say. "And unless…unless you cheated on your husband, I'm – he – biologically it's mine."

"I didn't cheat on Jason," she hissed angrily, her heart tightening in her chest as the thought of doing something so disgraceful. "I would never do something like that."

He shrugged and lifted his eyes to her face. "I don't know you or the things you do to the people you love."

"You know me," she argued quietly, walking over to the bed and sitting down. She didn't how much longer she could stay on her feet. "And that I wouldn't do something like that."

He didn't reply, his eyes carefully following her across the room.

"So the answer is yes," she sighed, holding the top of her robe closed as she looked up at him. "You are the father of this baby…biologically. I suppose the rest is up to you."

"The rest?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"Yes, you know, being a father," she answered flatly, hating how he had to make everything so painful. "If you want to be in this child's life-"

"Why would I want that?" he interrupted, shaking his head at her. "I don't even know who I am, so why the fuck would I-"

"I have no idea," she cut in, pushing herself up from the bed and throwing her hands up. "I guess it feels good to have a choice though, huh? To not be responsible for anything? To just ignore everything?"

"I don't remember anything," he argued, pointing at her stomach. "So I certainly don't remember…What do you want from me, Elizabeth? I gave you money. I gave you a car. I gave you everything that you needed, but you can't expect me to give you this – to be a father to a fucking baby that I don't even remember-"

"No, I don't expect anything from you," she cried, clenching her fists at her sides. "No one expects anything from you, which explains a hell of a lot. We've all bent over backwards to make this easy for you – to treat you like the _child_ you are, and you've done nothing but throw it back in our faces."

Her words didn't even register; his face remained hardened, his eyes didn't show the slightest bit of emotion, and for the first time, she was truly infuriated with him.

She wanted to hurt him.

"I know that this is hard for you, but what about the rest of us?" she asked, jabbing herself in the chest. "Do you even consider what this is like for us? For me? I lost a husband. A family. My entire fucking life, Jason, and you act like I did something wrong. Like _I_ did this to you. This isn't what I wanted – this isn't how it was supposed to be, but at least you get a choice in how your life has turned out. I'm just stuck."

She bit back a sob as she burst into tears and clutched her hand to her mouth, all while he just stood there. "I don't get a say in any of this. I can't change what I lost or what I have, but you can. You get a choice, and honestly, sometimes I– I _hate_ you for that." She gasped, covering her mouth with her handagain when the truth escaped.

He nodded, his eyes softening for just a moment before he crossed the room to her door. "Sometimes," he whispered, lingering in the doorway and glancing over his shoulder, "sometimes, I think I hate you too."


	17. Chapter 17

**[Prompt – I wanted freedom/but I'm restricted/I wanted to give you up/but I'm addicted – Time Is Running Out, Muse]**

**Chapter 17**

_Mid-Late February _

Jason hated when she looked at him like that – like she knew, like she understood, like she could fix everything if he would just let her. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't her fucking husband, and he had no intentions of letting himself get close to her. _Ever._ In fact, her calling him a son of a bitch was a fucking compliment. It meant that just maybe she was getting it – that she'd sign the papers and go the fuck away.

"Do you think that hurting everyone who cares about you is going to fix things?" she asked quietly, doing her best to remain hard, to hide that he was upsetting her. She never liked to cry in front of him, never wanted to be vulnerable, but he knew the truth every time she looked him in the face. She didn't give a damn about him, and if she thought she did, it was because he used to be her husband. "You'll be left with nothing."

"That's what I want." He jabbed the divorce papers with his fingers, knowing there was nothing that would bring him more piece peace than getting rid of the final part of Jason Quartermaine's life. "You don't care about me and neither does anyone else." He was nothing more than a fill-in, a reminder of everything that would never be, and he wasn't going to stick around and let everyone look at him that way. He wouldn't allow them to make him pathetic. "You're just waiting – you want-"

"Everyone cares about you, but you're too stubborn to see it!" she cried, throwing up her trembling hands. "Those people who you told to go to hell, – who you said were nothing to you, are your family, Jason! They gave birth to you and they raised you and-"

"I'm not the boy they raised, and they will never look at me without seeing him," he argued, pressing a cleinched fist to his mouth. Why did everyone have to make this so difficult? Why couldn't they just pretend that he was dead? Sometimes he thought he might be better off if he was. "Why won't you all go away?"

Her eyes softened, her breath hitching as she looked at him, and he knew she was going to tell him that he was everything, that he meant something to so many people, but he just didn't care. He ignored every word, ever declaration, every desire to help him.

"Because I don't want your help," he snarled, rebuffing her plea. "I want all of you to go away. I don't want you coming around and telling me I'm making mistakes and being reckless and-"

"You just had brain surgery, Jason!" she cried exhaustedly, clenching her eyes to hold back her tears. "You've been out of the hospital for barely a month…"

He rolled his eyes as she scolded him for his accident, for taking the cliff road too fast, and for praying that he might crash when he turned the sharp curves. No one knew that he drove it nightly, begging his tires to slip or the breaks too stall, wanting his head to collide into the asphalt or smash against a rock.

"I ride the cliff road fast and wait. Because if I can't get you all to leave me alone, I'll make it-"

"Don't say that," she said, looking away from him when he pressed harder, reminding her how he was nobody.

"If I sign will you stop?" she begged, almost hopeful that he would give in.

"Being annoyed with you?" he grunted, rolling his eyes. "I don't know. I think that dislike is lasting."

"Stop hurting yourself," she said, grabbing the pen from the desk with a shaky hand.

"I'm not any of your concern," he growled, motioning for her to sign and listing off all the things he'd given her in the divorce.

"I don't want any of that," she insisted, causing him to roll his eyes again.

Honestly, he was beyond caring what she wanted, never had really, except for that brief period when he trusted her. When she drove him away from the Quartermaines without a care in the world, acting as if he could actually make things work out despite the accident – but it had been a lie.

She waited patiently at his bedside for her husband, waited for him to remember, and when she didn't, she brought him safely home safely, wanting him to make a place of his own. How the fuck could Jason he make a place of his own when Jason Quartermaine was everywhere? He was an intricate piece of so much history that he Jason could never compete with it.

It was easier this way.

"Are you signing or not?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest. She took a deep breath, preparing for another fight that he was in no mood for. "I have somewhere to be."

"A meeting?" she asked curiously, her feelings about the kingpin reflected in her eyes.

"Maybe," he grunted, not giving a damn what she thought. Sonny respected him enough to treat him like a human being, to look him square in the eye and giving him the fucking truth. "It's none of your damn business." He rolled his eyes when she started to huff about Sonny, wanting him to think rationally. "I'm not listening to this. Sign and get out, Elizabeth. Go be the pathetic widow somewhere else."

She openly flinched, his words harder than any physical blow could have been. "Contrary to what you may think, Jason, this is the last place I want to be."

He chuckled under his breath, leaning over the desk as he goaded on her, calling her a whore (even though he knew she was anything but the sort), and he wasn't that surprised when her palm collided struck with his face. But he was surprised with how it made him feel, how it caused a tightening inside him he couldn't rightly place, and how badly he wanted her to feel the same way.

She whimpered when he turned her in his arms, pressing her back to his chest and tightening his hand over hers. "Sign," he growled in her ear, trying to ignore how it felt to be this close to her. He still remembered the scent of her hair, the way her skin felt beneath his hands, how she cried out in his arms, and how he promised himself it would never happen again. "Sign and get the-"

His head snapped up as Sonny burst into the penthouse, scolding him for grabbing Elizabeth like that, and he released her, making sure she knew this was it, that there weren't going to be anymore games. His boss tried to talk to her, but Elizabeth shrugged him off, hurrying to sign the papers and disappearing out the door without a word.

Sonny glared at him after she'd left, clearing his throat as he gave Jason a long, hard look. L Yeah, like Sonny even had the slightest fucking idea as to what he felt.

Jason nodded obediently, watching as Sonny his boss followed after her, confused as to why he felt anything except relieved.

**********

"Can we talk?" AJ asked, cautiously approaching Elizabeth as she bent over a table and carefully dropped dirty dishes into a bin.

"I'm working," she sighed, moving the bin to a chair and wiping the table off with a damp rag.

"Then I can be a customer," he shrugged, walking over to the counter and sliding onto a stool.

Elizabeth sighed as she eased the bin into her arms and walked behind the counter just as Mike came out of the kitchen. "I told you I would take care of bussing the tables," he scolded, shaking his finger at her.

"I'm pregnant, not helpless," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned to AJ, her boss glancing curiously at the patron.

"Am I safe today?" AJ quipped, reaching over the counter to grab a coffee mug. "I could really use some coffee."

"You're safe," she replied, waving Mike back to the kitchen with his dirty dishes as she filled AJ's cup.

Things had always been complicated between her and AJ, mostly because she'd always found herself placed between two brothers, desperately wanting them to get along in some way. Jason complied because he loved her and wanted to make her happy, but AJ enjoyed pushing her husband's buttons, trying to see how far he could make his brother go. It was only when Elizabeth called him on his antics that he let go and took a step back.

Perhaps that was the reason for a lot of the problems in her life; her in ability to call those she loved out before it was too late. She let AJ get away with hurting Jason time and time again because she wanted to believe he didn't mean it, that some good existed. And had she not sent her husband after him the night of the accident, their lives may have been very different.

Or maybe they'd still be mourning a much different loss.

"You know why Mike asked you to stay away," she said, handing him a small container of creamer as she walked around the counter.

Thankfully the breakfast rush had passed and she could take a moment to sit down and put her feet up. She needed to rest as much as possible because she was hoping to pull a double, though something told her Mike would probably try to keep her from doing so. He was like a hovering father, which was sweet considering she'd never really had one.

"The stuff with the family," he nodded, stirring creamer into his coffee as she slid onto a stool beside him. He rolled his head from side to side as he poured in some sugar, clearly uncomfortable with what had happened. "I'm sorry…if I hurt you."

"You didn't," she replied, propping her elbow on the counter and resting her chin in her hand. She'd been so hard with AJ that day, but she couldn't necessarily apologize for what she'd said. This wasn't his problem to fix, but he could be there as _she_ tried. "I was just scared. There was so much going on, and I hadn't seen you or Brenda, so I was carrying a lot of it…"

"And I announce that I'm taking over the family business," he finished, wrapping a hand around his mug and tapping it with his fingerhis fingers against it. "I really did think I could help, but you know Grandfather, when he gets something in his head…"

"There's no way around him," she laughed sadly, knowing that at his core, Edward was a good mand.

She was just frustrated that he had to be so blind. All she'd ever wanted was for Jason to have freedom, to not be another cookie cutter member of the Quartermaines because unlike everyone else, she knew that was the last thing he wanted too.

"I'm going to talk to him about reconsidering the deal," AJ said, taking a small sip of his coffee. "There's no reason for you to suffer or worry-"

"I'm not," she interrupted softly, rejecting another handout. She wanted people to believe that she could do this on her own, that she didn't need their help. "This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I'm going to be okay. And the only thing I need is for the people who care about me to believe in me. I don't want you or Brenda to try and fix this. I need to do it on my own."

He nodded slowly, his cheeks flushing. "I think I'm just used to my family who sweeps in and fixes everything before you I even realize what's wrong."

"Sometimes I think it would be easy to let someone swoop in," she admitted, leaning back on her stool, "but I need to do this."

"Jason – he'd be proud, you know," AJ murmured, leaning over to nudge her with his elbow. "Doing this on your own, not taking the easy way out – it's probably why he loved you in the first place."

"He always said I made things harder than they should be, but that doing that made me stronger," she replied, laughing as she rolled her eyes. "I drove him absolutely insane with the simplest things."

AJ grinned into his coffee mug as he took another sip. "It's good to see you smile, Elizabeth," he said, his grin quickly fading as he stared past her.

Sighing, she straightened up and looked over to see Jason standing at the foot of the stairs, talking to Mike. She heard Sonny's name so assumed it was about her boss' son, but she couldn't focus on anything except the way that Jason looked at her – or through her rather, his eyes narrowed at his brother.

"Does he…?" AJ started, but she cut him off as she cleared her throat with a nod and got up from the stool. She stumbled around the counter, looking for a dishtowel or an empty pot of coffee, anything to look busy. "And he doesn't want anything to do with you?"

"I don't know," she replied, shrugging as she poured outemptied an old pot of coffee and rinsed it out in the sink behind the counter. AJ arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain. She figured there was no one better to confess to – Brenda surely wouldn't be able to hold back her temper. "I went to tell him a few days ago. We fought and last night the came to see me and we…"

"Fought again," he filled in, leaning against the counter. "He's a son of a bitch, Elizabeth. You shouldn't give him the time of day."

"This isn't really up for discussion," she murmured, glancing over to where Jason had been standing.

She wanted to tell AJ – to tell anyone about what had happened, how she'd finally lashed out and told Jason what she was feeling. And how she'd told him she hated him for being able to forget and have a choice, but no one would understand. They'd probably congratulate her and say it was about time, not realizing that she was afraid, scared to death that he might have _really_ believed her.

**********

"So, Bernie's been in contact with the head's of all the Five Families, and they are swearing up and down they had nothing to do with the ambush that happened after the meeting," Sonny said, leaning back in his leather chair. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

Jason nodded, shifting uncomfortablye in the chair across from his boss, doing his best to soak in what he was saying.

"Bernie is going to schedule another meeting with the Five Families," he continued, watching closely in a way that made Jason nervous, almost like the doctors in the hospital had looked at him. "Francis and Johnny are handling surveillance of Anthony and Johnny for the time being. I don't know…maybe he wants to cause a rift between me and the Five Families. Maybe he's sneakier than I thought. I just don't know."

He nodded again, still embarrassed that he'd been late to the meeting, coming in just at the end after taking a long bike ride out of town. Sonny hadn't seemed to mind, and he sometimes wondered how often his boss had him followed.

"You can tell me what's going on," Sonny murmured, tossing a blue stress ball back and forth between his hands.

"It's nothing," he shrugged, looking away when his boss narrowed his eyes. "I'm sorry I was late."

"It was more important your meeting," he said, tightening his fist around the ball as he rocked back in his chair.

"I was riding," he Jason replied, rubbing his hands over the thighs of his jeans.

He wasn't used to his feeling – to being so anxious, nervous, skittish even, and it had been eating at him all night and day. Usually a bike ride helped when he felt like things were closing in, and sometimes a roll in the sheets with Carly, but he wasn't in the mood for the latter. And riding only lasted so long, eventually he had to come back to town and the problems crept up all over again.

"You can tell me what happened," Sonny pressed, sighing heavily. "Or you can let this fester until you can't control it."

"It's nothing," he repeated, pushing himself up from the chair and walking across the living room, torn between leaving and staying. "I just – I don't know _anything_."

It was an embarrassing admission, one that made him feel weaker than he ever thought possible, but it was true. Despite how hard he tried, he could never say or do the right things. His words became as twisted as the knots in his stomach and all he wanted was for someone to hurt as much as he did.

"This is about Elizabeth," his boss sighed, and Jason couldn't help but admire the way Sonny never asked questions, making assumptions that pried into his life. He rarely demanded to know things.

"I went to see her last night," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared out over Sonny's dark terrace, one hand on the door handle in case he felt the need to run. "She was…" He'd heard her talking before he noddedknocked, her gentle murmurs to the child inside her belly, telling it they were going to be okay. "I don't know what to do."

Sonny stepped up beside him, tipping his head towards him with a coy smile. "First, figure out what you want. That's the only place to start."

He shrugged, staring out the glass door, unsure of what he wanted. Inevitably, a child was going to come into this world that was his and even if it was just a biological factor, it would still be a part of him.

"I – I don't know," he stammered, letting out a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, remembering how angry she was, how she had tried so hard not to cry. "I think – the baby would be better without me."

Sonny nodded and then rocked his head from side to side, clucking his tongue. "This isn't an easy situation by any means, Jason, but don't do something you'll regret. I get that you have all these pent up frustrations, all this anger towards everyone, including Elizabeth, but this is especially hard on her too."

"Because I'm not him," he swallowed, clenching his fists at his sides. Sometimes he went to sleep, hoping he'd wake up in the morning, and remember something. Sometimes he was just tired of things being so confusing. "I _can't_ be him, Sonny."

"I don't think she wants you to be him," he replied seriously, rubbing a hand over his face. "I can't make this easier for you, Jason. No one can, but you have to decide if you want to take care of this child. If you want to be in it's life, and honestly, I don't think Elizabeth is going to hold it against you if-"

"She told me she hated me," he interrupted softly, cringing at how it made him feel, that he cared. "That I get a choice – that I don't have to live with the past. She said sometimes she hates me for it."

"Kind of like you hate her," Sonny murmured, arching his eyebrow as he looked at Jason from the corner of his eye.

He did – hate her.

When he thought about how patient she'd been, how carefully she looked after him, and how she didn't even fight him when he said or did horrible things – he hated her. Even he knew that didn't make sense, but it was the truth.

Now when he thought about this baby inside her, how this had been her dream before the accident, her dream with her husband – he hated her. Everyone had all these hopes and dreams, these desires and wants, but none of them were for him, and if they were, it was merely so he could be a stand-in, a figment of the man who had once existed.

"People don't always say exactly what they feel," his boss added, patting him on the shoulder. "They hide behind their feelings. They lash out. It's easier than being honest."

Jason wasn't so sure if they were talking about Elizabeth anymore, but still, he understood.

Sometimes he thought about those nights on the docks and how uneasily she laughed as he spoke or how she drove too slow, her hands trembling against the steering wheel. Briefly, he'd remember how good it felt to be beside her, and for a moment, he couldn't hate her.


	18. Chapter 18

**[Prompt – Random acts of what will bring us together again.]**

**Chapter 18**

"Aren't you even going to talk about it?" Carly asked, resting her chin on Jason's chest and looking him in the face.

"There's nothing to say," he shrugged, closing his eyes as he smoothed his hand up and down her bare back.

That morning he finally gave into her calls, her desperate requests of needing him, telling himself it had been days since he'd been laid. He had hoped Carly hadn't heard about Elizabeth and the baby, but unfortunately it was all she wanted to talk about between sessions.

Word had spread fast throughout Port Charles the very moment Elizabeth decided she wasn't going to cover the bump with frumpy buttons shirts and aprons. He imagined it had been a relief for her to shed the clothes and reveal her true self, but it was starting to wear on him more and more with every passing day. The town loved gossip and nothing was better than the former golden boy now turned thug having a child with a woman he couldn't remember. Everyone was looking at him wherever he went and it was unnerving.

Carly was supposed to be his easy escape, the most enjoyable way of ignoring his problems because they busied themselves with _other_ things. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why she gave a damn about the damn kid.

"Uh, you're having a baby…with a woman you don't even know," she said, like he needed reminding. "You have to be feeling _something_."

The handful of people around him wanted reactions, wanted to know what he was going to do and when, but they weren't bothering to think about what it felt like for him. How difficult of a place he was in and how he was trying hard not to feel something.

"I've told you before Carly," he muttered, sighing exhaustedly. Why couldn't she just bask in the afterglow of what was proving to be a very long and tiring session in the sheets? "I don't feel anything…And I – I know Elizabeth. She's not a stranger, but she's not…"

"Jason Quartermaine was married to her, not you," she replied, skimming a hand across up his chest and neck to trace , tracing his chin with her fingertip. "Everyone's talking about it. You have to know that much."

"I don't care what people say," he muttered, knowing the names they were calling him, that they all pitied Elizabeth's situation.

"This is different," she insisted softly, swiping her thumb over his lower lip. "This isn't the Stepford wife pestering you about your decisions or begging you to take her back. This is a baby."

As if he didn't already know.

He shrugged, looking away from her in hopes that she would change the subject instead of acting as if she knew anything about him and Elizabeth.

They never talked about personal things – at least he didn't. Jason knew her story though; how she'd come to town for revenge against the mother who'd abandoned her, how she'd bedded her mother's husband, and how because of that her mother wanted nothing to do with her.

To most she was the town whore, another social outcast like him, so he liked to think it was fitting for them to fall into one another, even if it was just for sex. They didn't judge one another for their pasts and (most of they time) they didn't talk about the futures.

She craned her neck, doing her best to look him in the eye despite his attempts to ignore her. "I was just wondering what you were going to do."

Like she honestly cared.

"You mean you want to know if this changes things between us," he said, arching his eyebrows at her and rolling his eyes when a sexy grin spread across her face.

"Maybe," she shrugged, stretching to press a kiss to his lips. "I mean, you can't expect to give a girl the best sex of her life and just disappear on her."

"I like our situation," he said, smoothing his hand over the back of her neck and fisting to fist it in her hair. He slipped his other around her waist and rolled her onto her back so he was on top, pinning her down, just the way she liked it. "It's simple, easy, no pressure, and that's about all I can handle."

"I guess I can be happy with that," she purred, moaning softly as he pushed her legs apart and settled between them. "But that still doesn't tell me what you're going to do."

"It doesn't matter what I do," he replied, taking her hand and pulling it between his legs. He wrapped her slender fingers around him, sucking in a breath when she started to pumppumped him in her fist, and he hardened in her hand. "Right now, I don't want to do anything but this."

**********

"It's quiet around here," Sonny said, shrugging off his jacket as he walked into his father's diner, surprised to see nothat there were no customers and find the place completely quiet.

Mike looked up from the counter. "Breakfast rush only lasts a couple hours. We stay pretty dead now until late afternoon and dinner time."

"Business hurting?" he asked curiously, hoping his father wasn't offended. He couldn't keep himself from asking about money from time to time, mostly to ensure that his father was keeping up with things, and not spending where he shouldn't.

"Better than ever," he grinned, setting a cup of coffee onto the counter and filling it as his son took a seat. "This place will be around as long as the regulars keep coming."

"That's good," he nodded, stirring creamer into the steaming liquid as he looked around. "Is Elizabeth off today?"

He also tried not to ask her about her, but usually he couldn't stop himself. Sometimes he called Mike up at the end of the day to make sure she was doing alright. He was doing his damnedest to play the mediator on both sides; to be there for Jason _and_ Elizabeth, but figured he wasn't doing much good.

His heart broke for the young pregnant woman when every time he saw the fight in her eyes and the adoration she had for her ex-husband. And it broke again when he thought of how vulnerable Jason became around her, how hard the man was struggling overwith the right thing to do. Jason could deny it all he wanted, but he felt something for her, and it was a pull that would only be denied for so long. Sonny just hoped Elizabeth was still around when he finally gave in.

"She worked the rush," he replied, turning towards the small kitchen window and calling out Sonny's order, a burger for late breakfast as usual. "She asked for a couple hours off to go visit Lila."

"She's still seeing the Quartermaines?" he asked, unsure whether or not his father was privy to the difficult situation between them.

Sonny tried to place himself in Edward's shoes, imagining what it would be like to hear a great grandchild was coming, and then what would motivate someone to go after that child because Elizabeth didn't give into their demands.

"Only Lila," he sighed sadly, leaning against the counter. "Reginald calls to let her Elizabeth know how she's doing. And when he called this morning, he said everyone was going to be out of the house till around dinner."

"That's nice," Sonny smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. "She needs all the support she can get, and while most of that family is completely crazy, Lila is one of the sweetest women I've ever knownmet."

He nodded in agreement as he wiped the counter down, looking at his son from the corner of his eye. "What's going on with you?" he asked seriously. "I know the burgers are good here and you've got a soft spot with Elizabeth, but I can tell there's something else."

"Business," he shrugged, poking his rolled up silverware. "I offered Jason an out. He didn't want it. I talked to Elizabeth about it and she doesn't care what he does as long as it's what he wants."

It was the closest to an apology, to – to getting past their brief argument over Sonny's placement of Jason in his business that he and his father would have.

"She loves him," Mike said, the corner of his mouth hitching in a smile. "And Jason doesn't realize it right now, but that kind of love is what's going to save him in the end."

"I try to tell him that," Sonny agreed, adding a little sugar to his coffee, craving something sweet and less bitter. "I try not to be as blunt, but I think he understands. Or at least I hope he does. He wants to do the right thing, but doesn't want to sacrifice this freedom he thinks he has."

"He'll have to figure it out on his own," he replied, turning around when the cook slid Sonny's order through the kitchen window. "Just like you like it."

"Thanks," he said, shaking out his napkin and draping it across his lap. He reached for the ketchup and, squirted it over his fries as he looked thoughtfully at his father. "Look, I, uh, I know you don't like when I come to you about business…"

"You know my motto," he sighed, leaning against the counter again. "Only tell me what you'd tell the police."

He cracked a grin as he popped a fry into his mouth. "I just want you to be on the lookout," he muttered, covering his mouth as he chewed. "You know about what happened in New York. I've got men looking into who did it and why and unfortunately everything points at the Five Families, but I don't think it's them. Anthony Zacchara hasn't caused any problems for me that I know of, but he might try to pit them against me to get on my good side."

"You made a deal with a mad man," Mike reminded him, pouring fresh coffee into Sonny's mug.

"It's nothing illegal," he defended, biting into a fry. "It was only a way to make some good cash and as far as I know, he's done nothing wrong." He hunched over the counter, lowering his voice. "But you hear things – I know Johnny's been eating here frequently, that sometimes Anthony joins him." Mike let out a shaky breath as he nodded and Sonny felt guilty for bringing the business to him, especially when he knew how uncomfortable it made his father. Unfortunately sometimes Sonny's business found him anyway, so he had to check in like this from time to time. "If you feel suspicious about anything, I want to know."

**********

"I don't know what exactly is going on, especially between you and everyone else in this family, but I do hear things," Lila murmured quietly.

Elizabeth noticed how her eyes softened and knew what was coming. It was the topic they'd been talking around over their tea, stumbling past it when Edward's name was mentioned, and she hated that things had to bewere awkward between them. Like the Quartermaines, Elizabeth would rather Lila was kept oblivious, but clearly the woman knew everything that went on around her.

"And I know that Edward makes mountains out of mole hills from the moment he gets out of bed," she laughed softly, her rings clinging together as she wrung her hands. "My husband's most frustrating attribute is that he thinks he's always right and unfortunately you can never tell him any differently, but if he's upset you in some way…, Elizabeth, you know that-"

"No," Elizabeth interrupted gently, shaking her head. Edward was her husband and Lila had the kindest heart, so surely if the old woman knew the entire truth, it would make things difficult between the husband and wife, and that was the last thing Elizabeth wanted. Their lives were already so complicated for reasons they couldn't control. More stress was unnecessary, especially when she and the baby were fine. "I understand why he acted the way he did. I really do. I've been around this family long enough to know how it works."

"I won't make excuses for him, but he has the best intentions," Lila added, pursing her lips together. "He's just so damn ornery sometimes with the way he goes about things."

"I would be worried if he wasn't," she replied, laughing when the older woman swore. "I meant what I've said all along – this baby will be a part of _their_ lives as long as they accept my decisions. And if not…"

"You have to do what's best for your child," she agreed solemnly, her eyes lighting up again. "You won't hear any complaints from me as long as I get to hold my great grandchild every now and then."

"You'll be one of the first," Elizabeth promised, scooting to the end of the couch. "I really appreciate how understanding you've been – how patient – and for always listening to me. Sometimes I feel like we've just had the same conversations over and over since the accident."

"It's all apart of healing," she sighed sadly, looking towards the doorway when Reginald appeared. "Oh, yes, I almost forgot." She smiled as turned her attention back to Elizabeth. "I would say we've had enough of discussing situations and the past and how we feel, don't you think?"

Elizabeth nodded, relieved that Lila felt as repetitive as she had.

"Good, because now I have something for you," she smiled, slowly lifting her hand to the arm of her electric wheelchair and fumbling for the controls. "I was going to have it delivered to you, but when Reginald said you were coming to visit…Well, I just wanted to see the look on your face."

"Okay," she murmured, pushing herself up from the couch and following Lila out of the living room.

"I know that you're still living in that tiny room above the diner, but eventually, I imagine you'll move," she commented, steering herself through the doorway and into the foyer. "You'll need room for things, especially this – that is if you'll accept it."

"Accept wha…?" The question faded from her lips as she stepped into the foyer, her eyes falling to the wooden crib that sat in front of herbefore. It was intricately hand carved, a dark polished wood that was so shiny she knew she could see herself if she stepped up beside it. "Lila, this is an heirloom. I can't…"

She and Jason had talked about this very crib when they were trying to get pregnant. There was a sense of pride in her husband's eyes each time he mentioned how excited his grandmother was to pass the family crib down to the next child. It had been a gift from Edward just days after he learned of his wife's pregnancy and he Alan had used it as an infant just as hisas had AJ and Jason sons had.

"I'd like you to have it," she said seriously, turning her chair around to look up at her. "I understand if it will make you too sad or if it's too hard, but lately, I've been thinking about it more and more. And it doesn't feel right for you not to have it, especially when all I can think about is what an incredible set of parents you two were…and still could be."

Elizabeth nodded as she walked over to the crib. "He knows," she murmured softly, skimming her fingertips across the wood.

"And he's afraid," Lila replied, steering herself over to her. She She reached out and clasped Elizabeth's hand, squeezing it tightly in hers hand. "Edward didn't talk to me for three days after I told him I was expecting."

"But then he showed up with this," she reminded her, pointing at the crib. There was no possibility of Jason doing something similar. Even Elizabeth wasn't that idealistic.

"Yes, but he was still afraid, and Jason – I know things are so difficult between the two of you and understandably so," she murmured, looking up at her. "And I know it's selfish of me to ask you to be patient, to think of the father he could be should he _choose_ to, so…I won't, but know I'm thinking it."

"Jason – he wanted so badly to be a father Lila," she said, swallowing hard. "And I don't doubt that he could be an incredible one now. I know that he's afraid and lonely and doesn't understand any of this – but that's exactly how the rest of us feel." She was relieved when the older women nodded understandingly. "I just can't believe in the possibility of him being in this child's life – not anymore. It'll hurt too much in the end."

"Well,Or maybe," Lila shrugged, squeezing her hand a little tighter, "he'll surprise you in ways you never imagined. There is nothing wrong with believing in, Jason, Elizabeth. Don't let anyone tell you differently."


	19. Chapter 19

**[Prompt – "****The great danger for family life, in the midst of any society whose idols are pleasure, comfort and independence, lies in the fact that people close their hearts and become selfish."**** – P****ope John Paul II]**

**Chapter 19**

"Just a beer," Jason muttered, hunching over the end of the bar at Jake's, nervously glancing around in hopes of _not_ seeing anyone who would talk to him.

He'd been avoiding Carly for the last couple of days, using work as an excuse when really, he just wanted to be alone. He slept at the penthouse more now and found himself slowly getting to useused to the upscale living quarters. Once he was able to ignore the life that had existed there before him, he even liked it.

Sonny had recommended a good place to get some furniture and Jason kept things as minimal as possible; an oversized couch, a flat screen TV, a pool table, and a mini-fridge stocked with beer. He barely went into the kitchen, ordering takeout most days, but Sonny had insisted that the refrigerator be kept stocked anyway.

"Thanks," he replied, tossing a few bills down on the bar as Coleman slid him his beer without so much as a word. He leaned against the bar with his hip as he took a swig of his beer, his eyes sweeping over the room. "Son of a bitch."

He shook his head when he noticed Carly next to the jukebox, her hips swaying as she dropped in a few quarters before sauntering back to an empty pool table. She nibbled her lip as she circled the table, her fingers tapping the slender stick, and finally her eyes finally lifting to his as she lined up a shot.

This was how it usually went between them, some silly role they found themselves playing where they acted oblivious to one another the entire night, coming together only when the bar closed and they found their way upstairs.

Unfortunately, he wasn't in the mood to play games tonight, even if just thinking about the things he could do to her as she bent over the table _almost_ made him give in.

"Night off, Morgan?"

Jason grunted in annoyance when he dropped his eyes to Johnny Zacchara, who was sliding onto the stool next to him. "Are you even old enough to be in here?" As if on cue, Coleman walked over and barked for his ID, causing the kid to roll his eyes. "You work for yourself or Morgan?"

Coleman's jaw ticked as he looked at Jason. "Is he with you?"

"Yeah, he's alright," he sighed, glaring at Johnny as the bartender went to get him a beer. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he quipped, grinning widely as he pulled a wad of crumpled money from his pocket. "Teasing, Morgan. God, don't you ever let up?"

"What do you want?" Jason asked, taking another sip of his beer as he looked over Johnny's shoulder at Carly. She was eyeing the younger man carefully, probably wondering if it was something work related.

"Actually I'm meeting a girl," he replied smugly, winking as he brought the beer bottle to his lips. "You know what those are, don't you?" He grimaced as he set his beer back on the bar. "Of course you do, you knocked one up and don't even remember it. How's that going for you?"

"Why do care?" he grunted, narrowing his eyes at him.

Johnny shrugged. "I don't. I was just asking how that's going for you. That's what people do."

"If you don't care, why do you ask?" he muttered curiously, trying to figure out why in the hell Johnny was talking to him and asking stupid questions.

He was probably just nosey like everyone else in this fucking town.

"Polite thing to do," he grinned, grabbing his beer as he got up from the bar. "My father may be an asshole, but he managed to raise me right." He took a long sip of his beer and held it up to Jason. "Even assholes make good fathers."

Johnny walked away before he could reply, and he followed him across the bar to where he met a petite blonde at the doorway, who he would no doubt get into some kind of trouble.

"Hanging out with Zacchara now?"

Jason looked over his shoulder as O'Brien approached, his hands fumbling to pop the buttons on the collar of his shirt. "How'd the meeting go?" he asked, ignoring his other question as he turned back to the bar.

Sonny held another meeting with the Five Families that afternoon, one that he'd asked Johnny O'Brien along to instead of Jason, which he understood. He was still new and fresh, still getting his head in the game – at least that's what Jason was telling himself for now.

If Sonny continued to put things off, Jason would speak up and ask questions about whether it was related to Elizabeth or not, but for now he'd be patient. He wanted to learn as much as he could about the business so that he could be as good as possible. That was the kind of man Sonny wanted on his side, and just because Jason had come through the first time didn't necessarily mean that he would always be called on.

"They want Zacchara watched," O'Brien replied, waving Coleman down to get a beer. "Sonny's nervous. The boss is never nervous. He's the type of guy whose hand never trembles, never stammers – he's ironclad, but he's nervous."

"Because of Anthony?" he asked, lowering his voice as Coleman approached with a beer for O'Brien and a fresh one for Jason.

"Yeah," he muttered, tossing money down on the bar and waiting until the bartender collected it and walked away before he continued. "Anthony's trying too hard to be likedable. He's overpaying Sonny, always trying to have drinks with the boss – that sort of thing. Hell, he's even hanging around Kelly's and complimenting Mike on his food."

"He wants everyone to think he's the good guy," Jason replied, wiping at the condensation on the side of his beer. "So when he does something he looks innocent."

O'Brien nodded, shaking his head as he looked over at Johnny. "His kid seems pretty nice to have that fuck up for a father, but maybe he's just playing along with the game too."

Jason's jaw tightened as he looked away from the young man to where Carly was still playing pool, her interest now taken by some other guy, but that didn't stop her from looking over from time to time. "Seems like games are all anyone is interested in playing."

"Yep," he replied, clapping Jason on the shoulder. "Welcome to the business."

**********

Sighing, Elizabeth gently pulled the door open to her room and peeked into the tiny hallway outside her room. She looked both ways as she closed the door behind her and carefully made her way down the hall, one hand cradling the rumbling swell of her belly. This had been the third night in the row that she'd woken up from a dead sleep craving sliced turkey and chocolate ice cream. The novelty of pregnancy cravings were definitely wearing off now that they required her to break into the kitchen of her workplace and hoard food.

Of course she paid for the food against Mike's will, but still, it was rather embarrassing to have to look her boss in the eye the last couple of mornings as he held out the note she'd written him. She always started with intentions of just eating turkey and ice cream, but then she'd noticed a bowl of fruit or a slice of leftover pizza that someone had left behind, and suddenly her craving had turned into a several course meal.

She cringed when one of the stairs creaked below her feet, her hand tightening around the railing as she waited for the silence to return, only then did she continue to make her way downstairs and stumble into the kitchen.

"You're up-"

"Oh, God!" she cried, jumping back against the door when Mike poked his head out from the refrigerator.

He chuckled as he closed the door, a sandwich and canned a can of soda in his hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," she murmured, taking deep breaths until the tightening in her chest went away. "I guess I wasn't the only one with a late night craving." She inched her way into the kitchen, surprised to see that Mike was still dressed in the clothes he'd worn that day at work. "Late night?"

She only meant to tease him, but his face flushed, and he looked away in a hurry. "I – well – it was, uh, poker night – a closed game, but, uh…"

"No worries," she murmured uncomfortably, vaguely remembering what Sonny had said about Mike and his affections for gambling. He was an addict caught red-handed so to speak and she hated that it had been by her. "I just want some food."

"Yeah," he nodded, motioning her towards the fridge with a shaky hand. "I'm, uh, I'm going to head to bed…"

"Alright," she murmured as she passed him, sucking in a breath at the distinct smell of whiskey. She supposed that some vices never went away, that everyone had something in their life they just couldn't break. "You sure you're okay, Mike?"

"What?" he asked, turning around in the doorway, his eyes glassy. "Oh, yeah. I just – you know – Sonny he worries when I gamble, even if it's just a silly game with some guys I used to hang out with at Jake's. Kids, they worry about their parents more than they should."

"He loves you," she replied, smiling softly. "That's all. He just wants to make sure you're okay."

"Oh, I am. He doesn't think I – well, it's nothing. I should head to bed. I'll talk to Sonny about things tomorrow. It'll be fine," he rambled, rolling his head from side to side. He almost looked like a little boy, one who'd done something wrong, and Elizabeth couldn't remember ever seeing him like this. "Sometimes you think you've caught a break and everything just...Well, it's like life doesn't ever want you to get ahead. I'm sure you understand that."

"Too well," she sighed, her eyes lingering on the doorway long after he'd disappeared from it. She listened for his feet on the stairs, the sound of his door closing, the rustling in his room that was above the kitchen.

It was a strange feeling to have seen Mike like that; someone who was always so together, who seemed to have come to grips with his past, and she couldn't help but wonder if some things just couldn't be let go of.

Shaking her head, she pulled opened the fridge, her appetite suddenly shaken, and she wasn't sure how long she stared at the food before she realized she wasn't hungry. She grabbed a jug of milk anyway and poured a glass, knowing if she went back upstairs, her stomach would probably start grumbling in an hour. She wasn't particularly fond of the drink, but knew it was good for the baby, so she'd have to suffer.

She put the jug back into the fridge, and leaned against the counter as she rubbed the back of her neck, still listening as Mike moved about his room. She found herself wondering what he was thinking, if he felt guilty for drinking and gambling, or worse, if he was worried that Elizabeth was going to tell his son.

She shoved her thoughts aside and sipped her milk, her nose wrinkling at the smell from the glass.

It reminded her of being a little girl, of how her mother always made her drink it at every meal, and how Elizabeth would whine and buck for so long that she was would be forced to down a warm glass that sometimes made her sick. Smiling to herself, she patted her stomach, silently promising to never force her child to drink or eat anything – within reason, of course. When it was half empty she felt satisfied enough to return to bed, crossing the room to wash her glass out in the sink as she yawned.

For just a moment, she closed her eyes, suddenly feeling so exhausted that she could just fall to the floor and go to sleep, and that was when she heard it. When she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and forced the comfortable silence of her life to return – she heard someone fumbling with the front door of the diner.

She wasn't sure exactly of what happened next, whether a window was broken or the door was simply pushed in. The sounds became too loud – shattered glassing glass pinging across the dining room floor, the splintering of the wooden door, and the sound of voices.

So many voices.

"…break whatever you can…"

"…do it in a hurry…"

"…no longer than sixty seconds…"

"…such a shame for a place like this…"

"…son of bitch needs to pay…"

She gasped as she looked through the thin, kitchen window, the figures just blurs as they moved about the restaurant. She backed away from the sink, the glass tumbling from her hands and smashing against the floor as she looked around, trying to figure out what to do.

Sixty seconds.

Hadn't a minute already passed? It shouldn't be much longer and then they'd be gone. She cringed as the sounds continued – the breaking of table legs, the chairs snapping into pieces, the constant splintering of the wood, followed by more glass. She closed her eyes as she sank to the floor, one hand smoothing over her belly as if to comfort the child who didn't even know what was going on – not that she did really really did either.

Mike was one of the nicest men she'd ever met. He'd been so good to her – why would anyone do something like this to him?

_Sonny. _

Clenching her eyes, she took deep breaths, willing the sounds away, begging for the silence that she often found so heartbreaking to return. It was safe and easy, so unlike this, and now she needed it.

She continued to stroke her stomach, her breaths coming raggedly, and she wondered how no one upstairs had heard what was going on. Or maybe they did, but they were just as afraid as she was to do anything about it. NAnd no one except Mike knew she was down here, and by now he was probably in bed, drowning in his drunken stupor.

Her lashes fluttered open when she realized it was almost quiet again, and she took a deep breath and started to push herself to her feet, knowing she had to call the police.

Or Sonny.

But the police…

What was she supposed to do?

She stumbled as she moved to her feet, realizing that she had pressed her palm into the broken glass and hadn't even felt it. It reminded her of that awful night at her studio when she'd wanted to hurt herself, but couldn't feel anything except how numb she was.

"Shit," she groaned, flicking a piece of the glass from her hand as she made her way over to the sink, relieved that she'd put slippers on before coming downstairs.

She turned the sink on, hissing as she stuck her palm beneath the water, and stiffened when she heard the door swing open behind her. There was an instant of relief – that someone had heard from upstairs, but when she heard the boots crunch over the broken glass on the floor, she sucked in a breath. She reached for the knives in the dish drainer, her fingers desperately fumbling to grab anything, but she wasn't quick enough.

She felt the fingers rake through her messy curls, tightening as she was pulled away from the sink, her petite form colliding against a hard chest. Tears stung her eyes when she felt the warm breath on her ear, a firm arm folding over her chest, pinning her against him from behind. "Hmm," the intruder murmured roughly, his lips brushing over her ear. "This job just became _very_ complicated."


	20. Chapter 20

**[Prompt – There were sounds in my head/little voices whispering/that I should go and this should end/oh and I found myself listening – Where I Stood, Missy Higgins]**

**Chapter 20 **

"Elizabeth, you really should let me take you to the hospital," Brenda sighed, kneeling down in front of her and reaching for her bandaged hand. ElizabethShe knew Sonny hadn't meant to cause any trouble by calling her, but she wished he hadn't. It would have been easier for her to talk her way out of what happened, but now Brenda had seen it. "You should get this checked out and the baby…"

"The doctor said I'm fine," she murmured softly, pulling her hand away from her friend and returning it to her lap.

Thankfully, Sonny had thought of everything the very second that Elizabeth called him. He arrived at the diner in what felt like minutes, and a doctor followed soon after because he said he knew Elizabeth wouldn't want to go to the hospital. She hadn't even told him she was hurt, but she'd been crying so hard by the time she got to the phone that he just knew.

The doctor had slowlycarefully removed the glass from her palm, bandaging it with great care, and then examined her as carefullyclosely possible as he could to check on the baby. He admitted he wasn't as thorough as a hospital could have been, but he had no reason to believe the baby wasn't going to be just fine.

She understood from his tight-lipped frown that she should take it easy for a few days, rest heavy and stress less, especially considering her blood pressure. She hadn't mention that because she knew he would have convinced Sonny to take her straight to the hospital, even though she knew the baby was fine. She could feel it fluttering around in her stomach, found the movements comforting after what had happened, and she almost felt guilty for feeling as though her child was already taking care of her.

Everything in between was still a blur. His hand on her neck…fingers tangled in her hair…the heat of his breath against her face…the pull of her nightshirt.

No matter how hard she thought about the last hour, she couldn't figure out how she'd gotten to this point. One simple craving had put her in harm's way – though she probably shouldn't have been surprised.

She was Elizabeth Webber.

Nothing in the last five months had gone her way.

"Come on, honey," Brenda begged, raking a hand through her messy hair as she looked up at Jax, waiting for him to help coax her along. "Let me at least take you home. You can stay with Jaxke and I-"

"Yeah, we have a guest bedroom," her husband finally spoke up, his hand resting on her shoulder.

She shook her head as she twisted her shoulder away, her fists clenching despite his tender touch. "I want to go to my studio," she said quietly, tightening her shoulders around herself.

"Elizabeth," her best friend sighed exhaustedly, looking at her husband for help, but even Jax realized it was a lost cause. "Stop being stubborn and let us help you."

"I – I don't need help," she said roughly, pushing herself up from the chair. It was the only one that they hadn't managed to smash in the dining room and her heart sank as she looked around at the pieces of wood and broken glass. "I just want to leave."

She sucked in a breath when everyone's head turned towards her, looking surprised to see her moving, and she wondered if they expected her to cower in fear. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened and she wasn't going to let it control her like she had before.

Brenda swore behind her when Elizabeth walked over to Sonny, her knees wobbly and hands trembling. He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked away from his father when she stopped in front of him. "You doing okay?"

She nodded, folding her arms over her chest. "I'd like – like to leave."

"Of course, whatever you want," Sonny replied, motioning for one of the men he'd brought with him who he'd had standing by the door. "This is Johnny. He can take you wherever you want."

"He doesn't have to," she argued, ducking her head when she realized everyone was still looking at her. "I can get there by myself. I just – just _have_ to get out of here."

"Why don't you go upstairs and pack some of your things to take with you?" he asked gently, reaching out to touch her butand stopping halfway. He dropped his arm back to his side. "Get some of your things – you'll need some clothes, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," she agreed, not thinking about anything except getting out of the diner and putting this night behind her.

"Good," he said, forcing a dimpled smile as he tossed his head towards the stairs. "Get some of your things and then we'll fight over who's taking you where it is that you want to go."

**********

"You're not taking her anywhere," Brenda said sternly, stepping in between Sonny and Elizabeth as she pointed a slender finger at the kingpin. "You're the god damn reason this happened in the first place and the last thing-"

"Please," Elizabeth murmured, pursing her lips together as her eyes filled with tears. She looked at Sonny apologetically and his heart broke like it always did for the young woman.

He couldn't fault Brenda for her statement; this had been his fault. Be it through Anthony or the Five Families or some random enemy – his father had been a target and it wasn't the first time. And he wondered how he could have done things differently – assigned guards, watched his father more closelyr, not made a deal with the devil -, and he kept fighting the urge to ask his father how he hadn't heard what was going on downstairs.

No, he wouldn't ask that because that would mean admitting he smelled the whiskey on Mike's breath.

"Go get your things," Sonny muttered quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose when Brenda grabbed Elizabeth by her arm.

"Where are you going to go, Elizabeth? Home with Sonny?" she asked, shaking her head. "Come home with us. Sleep in a warm bed. And we can talk about this-"

"I don't want to talk about _it_," she interrupted softly, pulling herself away from Brenda so hard that she stumbled on her feet.

Jax reached out to help her regain her balance, his eyes hardening as he looked at his wife. "Brenda, let Elizabeth go get her things."

Sonny shook his head as the husband and wife continued to argue, relieved when Elizabeth slowly moved herself out of their circle and started for the stairs, her head hung exhaustedly. She looked defeated, more worn out than she had before, and he hated that he had been the cause of this.

"You know that she doesn't need to be alone tonight," Brenda hissed, glaring at Sonny, who just shrugged in reply. "She can't be alone right now. This is going to be hard for her-"

"Did you ever stop to think that you might bewere making it harder on her?" he interrupted hastily, shaking his fist at her. "I know how much you love to swoop in and take care of problems that aren't yours."

"Go to hell, Sonny," she muttered, spinning on her heels and heading for the stairs, no doubt to convince Elizabeth to go home with her and her happy husband.

Normally, he would have been relieved that Elizabeth had a friend like Brenda, someone so strong-willed and determined, but tonight it was only going to hurt the poor girl more than she already was. She needed space, time to deal with what had happened, and a crowd of people breathing down her neck and asking questions wasn't going to fix this.

"Don't you think that was a little unnecessary?" Jax asked, narrowing his eyes at the mobster, his hands on his hips. "This isn't the time to act on personal vendettas."

"I didn't say anything to Brenda she doesn't already know," he replied spitefully, clenching his jaw as he looked around the diner.

Nothing was salvageable, not even the wobbly chair that Elizabeth had been sitting oin. Every single thing his father ever worked for was broken to pieces and scattered across the floor. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, pacing the room as he rubbed his forehead.

He couldn't get the sound of Elizabeth's voice when she called out of his head, how she'd choked on every sob, saying that the diner had been broken into, that she'd been grabbed. "Johnny," he barked, motioning the guard over with the flick of his finger. "I want you to get this place cleaned up before the sun comes up, board up the windows, and put up some sign about Kelly's being under construction. The PCPD doesn't need to get wind of this. They'll connect it to mob violence and cause even more problems and Elizabeth…" He trailed off when he saw Jason appear over Johnny's shoulder, his eyes widening as he looked at Sonny. "Go on, Johnny."

"Alright," he nodded, turning around and calling out to a couple of the guards.

"What the hell happened?" Jason asked, carefully stepping over the glass, his face tense and tired.

Sonny hadn'tdidn't wanted to call him, but he didn't know how _not_ to, or worse, if the man would even give a damn. Jason was firm about where he stood with Elizabeth and their situation, and he hadn't brought it up since a few nights ago when he talked to Sonny about the baby. He knew better than to pressure him into discussing the situation, but tonight, it just couldn't be avoided.

Clearing his throat, Sonny glanced at Mike, who'd been unreasonably quiet, probably because he was still sobering up. "We'll talk about this later…when you're sober." His father cringed noticeably and looked away when everyone in the room glanced at him. "Come on." He waved Jason towards the counter and lowered his voice. "Someone broke in here tonight and as you can see…"

"Do you know who it was?" he asked calmly, folding his arms over his chest.

"No," he replied, clucking his tongue as he scratched his chin. "Look, I know I woke you up in the middle of the night – that you had to drive across town-"

"It's not a problem," he shrugged, sounding eager to help. "What can I do?"

"Uh, it's…Elizabeth," Sonny said hesitantly, eyeing the staircase. He couldn't decide if it was unfair or not to ask Jason to help, to try and talk to her, and he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to. "She was in the kitchen…when this happened." He sighed, shifting his eyes back to Jason, curious to see the look on his face. "She sat in the kitchen while they tore the place apart and then one of them – he went into the kitchen, grabbed her – she's shaken up."

"Oh," he replied, furrowing his brow as he looked Sonny in the face, his eyes dark, but still emotionless.

"She's okay, but I thought you should know," he added, reaching over and patting him on the arm. "I guess I could have told you that over the phone."

Jason nodded slowly, letting out a deep breath as he walked away, and Sonny knew there was nothing he could do, but pray that Jason did the right thing.

**********

Jason leaned against the brick wall and peered into the diner as Elizabeth came around the corner, a small duffel back in her hand, and Brenda at her side. She was dressed in pajamas, her cheeks flushed, and eyes red and puffy, more so than usual. He hadn't thought she could look anybe sadder or more exhausted, but this night had done something to her, maybe even touched her in a way he didn't understand.

He wasn't sure what Sonny expected from him, how he could fix this, but his boss expected something, which confused him. He didn't know anything about comforting someone or making them feel bettergood, and he surely couldn't imagine doing it for Elizabeth.

In all honesty, he wanted to leave and get as far away from the diner as possible. He didn't want to see her face or think about what happened, hating that it made his chest tighten and his head hurt. The possibility of someone grabbing her and hurting her – he just couldn't explain it. It just didn't _feel_ right, like the kind of thing a person should never do.

"I want to go home," he heard Elizabeth say firmly, her voice shaky as she looked sternly between Sonny and Brenda. "Just let me leave."

"Elizabeth, please," Brenda pleaded, holding her hand out to her. "Don't shut yourself off – not again."

The brunette shook her head fiercely, her curls wild against her shoulders as she backed away.

"I don't want to cause any trouble, but maybe you shouldn't be alone," Sonny agreed, grimacing when she narrowed her eyes at him.

Jason grunted, dropping his gaze as he thought of how similar his conversations had been with the Quartermaines. They were so sure they knew what Jason should do and where he should go, and all it did was make him angrier, more determined to get away.

It almost reminded him of the fights she had with the Quartermaines, too; how she struggled to make them see her point and none of them listened. He almost felt sorry for her to be in a room with everyone talking at her instead of to her.

"I feel so bad for the boss," one of the guards muttered, shoving pieces of broken chair legs beneath his arms. "He feels so guilty."

"I know," another replied sadly, following after him. "The boss would have gone ballistic if she'd been raped again."

"What did you say?" Jason asked, pushing himself away from the wall.

It was like the men hadn't even seen him and he came rearing out of the shadows, prepared for a fight. One of them cleared his throat awkwardly while the other fumbled with the chair legs, looking relieved when Johnny came up behind them.

"I want to know what you said," he repeated, looking to the elder guard for guidance. "About Elizabeth."

"Go on. I'll talk to him," Johnny muttered, sighing heavily as he walked over to him, his hands tucked stiffly in his pockets. "What did you hear?"

Jason shrugged, shifting his eyes back inside the diner to where Elizabeth was still arguing, her voice shakier, clearly on the edge of tears. "They said – I think they were talking about Elizabeth. Sonny said the guy just grabbed her, shook her up a bit…"

"Yeah," O'Brien nodded, standing beside him and looking into the window. "Thankfully."

He could sense that the guard didn't want to explain, just as Sonny hadn't inside the diner, but he wasn't going to let Johnny get away as easily. "What happened?"

"I don't know exactly. The boss called not too long after I left Jake's, saying that Elizabeth called him…Kelly's had been broken into, so I headed straight here." He took a deep breath and walked away from the window, shaking his head. "I was here before the boss, and I found Elizabeth sitting on the floor behind the counter – she was crying and bleeding-"

"Bleeding?" he asked, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Yeah, she cut her hands on some glass, but Sonny brought a doctor with him. He was afraid – Man, Jason, you don't want to hear this from me," he replied, raking a hand through his messy hair.

"Who else am I going to hear it from?" he asked, refusing to let O'Brien walk away.

Someone was going to telltelling him what the fuck was going on, even if he had to go in there and demand to know the truth.

"Elizabeth…" He started, lowering his voice as he walked back over to him. "Elizabeth was raped…years ago…seven or eight…maybe even ten. I don't remember exactly. She was, uh…The whole town knew."

Jason looked back into the diner to see Elizabeth push through the small crowd of people and head for what was left of the door. She looked so small and frail,; someone who could easily be taken advantage of. He didn't understand it. How could just someone just…He remembered the day at the penthouse, how roughly he'd shoved her against the wall and jerked her pants down – how roughly he _always_ touched her.

"Sonny thought it might have happened again, but for some reason the guy just let her go. Mike wanted to call the police, mostly for insurance reasons, and just pretend like this had never happened, but the boss..."

JasonHe rubbed a tight fist against his chin as she neared the door, his stomach churning. "Wouldn't let him because of Elizabeth."

**********

Elizabeth choked back a sob as she flung back the lower half of the door – all that remained from the painful assault on the diner. She was tired of standing in a room with a group of people who were talking about her like she wasn't there. No one knew what she needed – they couldn't even fathom what she was feeling.

She was used to Brenda trying to take control of situations, always wanting to be the person who could fix things, and in most cases, Elizabeth let her have her way. Tonight, she was being ridiculous -, the worst kind of friend who couldn't even see what was in front of her. And Sonny, backing her up in the end, probably just to upset Jax – only men would turn this God awful night into a pissing contest.

"Where are you going?"

She curled her fingers into her duffel bag as she slowly turned around, wondering whose fault it was that Jason was standing in front of her. "Away," she said flatly, cringing as she glanced back inside the diner and saw they were all looking at her.

Everyone taking in the scene between her and Jason like it was some damn movie.

She backed away from the window, wanting to be out of their sight, and she was surprised when Jason followed.

"Are you walking?" he asked softly, in a tone so tender, one that she'd yet to hear from him.

Probably because he pitied her.

"Yeah," she grunted, nibbling her lip as he stepped closer. "I guess you didn't hear that I sold the Jag, so my only transportation right now is my feet. And seeing as it's what? – four in the morning and there aren't any buses-"

"It's dark," he interrupted stiffly, folding his arms over hiser chest. It was a familiar stance, one that usually meant he was going to tell her to go away, and yet, she could see him rocking back and forth on his feet, debating what to do. "You shouldn't walk around alone in the dark."

"Yeah," she nodded, her lips quivering as she spoke. "Tell me about. Even getting a glass of milk is dangerous."

His jaw tightened as he looked her over, clearly searchinglooking for some kind of mark, a bruise to prove what had happened. Was he going to question her – act as if this were a lie?

"You can't stop me either," she hissed, her eyes hardening as she pressed her lips together. She was through crying – beyond being sad. She was just pissed off. "What?"

"I'm, uh, I'm not," he stammered, rubbing a finger over his brow as he looked at her.

She tried to figure out what he was thinking, what he was even doing here. He didn't care, and even if Sonny had called him, Jason wouldn't have come for her. She started to turn around, but and he grabbed her by her wrist, releasing her seconds after he touched her. Now he'd see her just like everyone else.

"Uh, it's dark," he repeated, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. "Maybe…you'll need a ride…wherever you're going."


	21. Chapter 21

**[Prompt – With some people solitariness is an escape not from others but from themselves. For they see in the eyes of others only a reflection of themselves.**** – E****ric Hoffer****]**

**Chapter 21**

"I don't like being followed," Elizabeth sighed exhaustedly, her duffel bag tucked under her arm as she stood at the edge of the docks.

She'd turned down his ride, explaining her studio was just across the docks, and that she definitely didn't want a ride from him of all people. There may have been some obscenities tossed in, and then Brenda came out the door to try and coax her back inside, and she stalked off, leaving Jason no choice but to follow.

Otherwise her friends were going to continue to harass her and that was the last thing she needed.

"I told you before that it was dangerous to hang around here at night," Jason replied, stepping up beside her.

"Why?" she asked flatly, tipping her head towards him, her eyes shining in the moonlight. "Why even bother to look out for me? You don't care." She rolled her eyes as she backed away from him. "It'd be a relief if something happened to me, wouldn't it? If you didn't have to worry about seeing me or hearing-"

"Stop," he grunted, turning around to face her.

"Stop?" she asked, laughing softly, the sound carrying in the soft night's breeze that blew off the water. "I haven't even gotten started yet, _Jason_."

She said his name so spitefully; every ounce of disgust she felt at the moment was aimed at him.

"Sonny called me and asked me to come to the diner. I didn't know what had happened until I got here," he replied, tucking his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "I, uh, I didn't know it involved you."

"He didn't tell you," she murmured, shaking her head as she looked out over the water. "I can't believe he called you."

Neither could Jason really. This didn't exactly pertain to work, and while he didn't like that Elizabeth had been hurt, he couldn't figure out what exactly he was supposed to do.

"I think he wanted to make sure you were okay." He shrugged, furrowing his brow. "Maybe," he added, confused.

She didn't say anything, just narrowed her eyes over the water, the bag still tucked beneath her arm. Her face was no longer flushed, her eyes no longert red rimmed and puffy; any pain, any desire to cry had been replaced by something else.

He tried to imagine what she was feeling in this moment, which wasn't an easy task. Most of the time he was torn between caring at all, but tonight, he couldn't help it. He kept thinking about how that man may have grabbed her, what memories filled her head, and how she probably thought it was going to happen all over again.

Did she cry when he grabbed her? Did she beg for him to let her go? Why did he? And most importantly, why did she stop walking long enough for Jason to catch up?

"Who told you?" she asked softly, her trembling fingers curling into the bag. He cleared his throat, unsure of what she was talking about, and she finally tipped her head towards him. "Who told you I was raped?"

His eyes widened and she chuckled in annoyance, shifting as she shifted the bag in her arms. "The way you looked at me outside Kelly's, even now. I knew someone had told you."

"Some of the guards were talking," he explained, rubbing a hand over his face. "Uh, Johnny – the guard who-"

"Found me tonight," she interrupted, hanging her head in defeat.

"Yeah, he told me you were – were…" He couldn't say it to her, worried that bringing it up, that even mentioning it would make her feel violated. And he'd probably done enough of that.

"Raped," she hissed, not even flinching as she said it. "I was raped." She closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side. "When that man grabbed me tonight – it was like I was nineteen again. The way he pulled me by my hair, touched my neck, even the way he lifted my shirt." Her eyes flashed open, locking with his, so dark and angry, something he'd never seen from her. Not even that night when she yelled at him in his room. "Thankfully, no one wants to rape a pregnant woman.…or at least he didn't."

"Elizabeth," he sighed, shifting his eyes to the water.

"You can't even look at me now," she murmured quietly, "and you always looked at me like no one else." She groaned and shook her head. "Well, you can go, Jason. I don't want your pity over something that happened before I even knew you."

He started to ask what exactly she meant – was she referring to Jason Quartermaine or Jason Morgan, but he already knew the answer. He just wasn't sure if he liked it.

"I said you can go," she repeated, angrier this time. "I don't need someone to look at me and see what happened before. I can do that on my own."

"I just – I – I haven't been gentle with you," he stammered uncomfortably, sucking in a breath. This wasn't easy to admit and he wasn't sure how to apologize for something like this. "That day at the penthouse…"

He thought about it often, especially when he saw her; remembering how rushed their bodies and mouths had been, the warmth of her mouth, and how he had tried so hard to take something from her that day.

And now his biggest regret now would be that maybe he had.

"Don't you dare," she snapped, turning towards him, her eyes so dark they were almost black. Her chest heaved and suddenly she flung her bag at him, and he let it hitm him in his chest and fall to the ground. "What you did to me – what we did – it is not the same as what happened to me. Don't you _ever_ compare the two to one another."

"Seriously," she hissed, rubbing her forehead with both her hands as she paced, suddenly lunging forward and punching him in the chest. Her fists bounced against him, the air feeling filling with the sounds of their tiny thuds. He made no attempt to stop her and eventually she pushed him away in disgust. "Where do you get off, Jason? I don't understand it. One second you're telling me that you want me to stay away and the next you're coming to my rescue. And then apologizing for – for _raping_-"

"I didn't say that," he interrupted angrily, shaking his head at her. "I was rough with you – t, that's all. I wanted to make sure-"

"You've always been rough with me," she cut in pointedly, raking her fingers through her wild curls as she backed away from him. "Always. And I was pregnant the entire time, so maybe you should apologize for that – for the way you threw me out of your room that night. For all the times you-"

"I get it," he muttered quietly, every accusation hitting him so hard they made his stomach churn.

"Good," she replied, folding her arms over her chest and taking a deep breath. "I – I don't want an apology."

"Not like you'd believe it anyway," he hissed, leaning over and snatching her bag from the ground.

"No, I don't _want_ one," she corrected, reaching for her bag, but her fist clenched, and she dropped her hand back to her side. "What we did – it may be hard for you to understand, but I – I wanted you that day. I don't want to know if you're sorry or if you want to take it back…And besides, it's not like what happened to me tonight or all those years ago."

She sighed, cradling her face in her hands as she swore. There were so many things she wanted to say, but didn't know how. He could see that much in every movement, every emotion that flicked in her eyes, and he didn't know how to help her. And strangely enough, for once he wanted to listen.

Maybe this was why Sonny had called.

"What did Johnny tell you?" she asked quietly, scuffing her beat up sneakerd against the docks.

"Just that you had been…raped," he replied, ducking his head as the word escaped his lips. It was never something he could get used to, especially around her. "That it happened a long time ago."

"Nine years," she murmured, closing her eyes as she folded her arms across her chest, smoothing her hands up and down her bare arms. "I'd had a fight with a friend. He was supposed to meet me in the park so we could talk things over." He cringed, knowing she meant Jason Quartermaine. It was a natural reaction when his former self came up, one he couldn't hide or break if he wanted to. "I waited and waited and then…"

She shrugged, trying to let go of that place, where it hurt more than she would ever admit. When she wasn't trying to hide them, her emotions were so present; in her eyes, her gestures, even the tone of her voice.

"Everyone in town knew. They all looked at me like I was some kind of freak. Some people thought I made it up. Some people just liked the gossip. It was _everywhere_ – discussed at every town function, in ever headline in the paper. Everyone looked at me differently." She let out a shaky breath and looked over at him. "I hate being stared at or followed…or someone coming up behind me. I've let go of most it, but that feeling of knowing someone is there – that you want to turn around, but you can't, that they're touching you – that never goes away."

"Did, uh, did they catch him?" he asked, scratching a finger over his brow.

"Yeah," she nodded, rolling her eyes. "It was a trial that I didn't think was going to end. He'd raped two other girls. We were all in different counties, and well, third time's the charm or something."

She shrugged, closing her eyes as she pushed the memories away, to a safe place that wouldn't have to be opened for some time. He knew that feeling – that desire to ignore what had happened, to shove it somewhere in to a place where it wouldn't be felt.

"Even then, everyone thought they knew what was right or wrong and tonight…" She scowled and tossed her curls over her shoulder, shivering when a breeze blew in. "I don't like being talked at – when people don't hear me." She nibbled her lip as she looked at him. "It's why I was so frustrated with your fam – with the Quartermaines. I know what that's like."

He grimaced and shook his head, not wanting this to turn into something about him. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Of course not," she said, her face hardening. "You don't want to talk about anything. I'm surprised you're still standing here." She stepped forward and snatched her bag from his hand. "You can take your pity and go. You can even tell Sonny you did the job he asked you to – that's probably why you're here, right?"

He wasn't going to try and explain something he didn't exactly understand. How could he explain that he tensed at the mere possibility of her being hurt? That every time he saw her cry, he couldn't stop thinking about it for hours afterwards? That he wanted to find out who'd done this and he wanted to fix it?

All of which made him so fucking angry he wanted to tear the damn docks apart with his bare hands.

"Just go," she hissed flatly, her voice void of any emotion. "I'm tired of you looking at me like that."

He bucked, contemplating whether to leave her here or at least get her to her building, and his hesitation infuriated her even more.

"What the hell is your problem?" she cried, dropping her bag to the ground as she lunged at him again, shoving him away. "I want you to go away and leave me alone. Just stop this, Jason. You're nothing. I'm nothing. We're nothing to each other. Got it?"

She hit him harder, her firstone of her fists hitting him hard in the corner of his mouth. He gently grabbed her wrists and pushed them away, pulling her against him at the same time.

Staring up at him, she swallowed hard, her eyes still filled with fury, and he knew if he let go, she'd hit him again. "I'm tired of this," she muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. "You think you're the first person to be angry, Jason? To lose everything – no, to have something _taken_ from you? Do you?"

"What happened to you is very different than what's happened to me," he replied, loosening his grip on her wrists. "You still know who you are, Elizabeth."

"I know what it's like," she whispered, her hands falling limply against his chest, her fingers curling into the material of his shirt. "To lose yourself…who you are…who you're supposed to be. I lost everything that I was because some man – some stranger from another state held me down on the ground in the middle of winter, and he ripped it away from me. He took something that wasn't his, a part of me that I will never get back."

"You're angry, Jason," she continued, stepping back and pulling her wrists from his hands that fell limply to his sides. Something was happening here, something he couldn't explain, and he was afraid for her, of her, and what exactly all this meant. "You want to know why this happened to you, why nothing makes sense anymore, and why the only thing you feel is a stirring – a churning so strong in your stomach that sometimes you throw up just to make it stop. _I_ know what that's like. I know it better than anyone else you know."

Leaning over, she grabbed her bagck and shook out the strap, and then tugged it over her shoulder. "I know about being angry – about wanting to hide and to smash things and hurt the people who love you – the people who make you _feel_ things. I know about it all, except the only difference is I learned to live with it. I learned that anger is the strongest, most consuming emotion, and if you let it, it'll define you, but if you let it go…" Her hand slipped over her belly, the small swell peeking through her shirt as she looked at him. "Llife can be pretty amazing."

Her hand slipped over her belly, the small swell peeking through her shirt as she looked at him. "You can tell me how you feel, Jason. How you really feel – not that you're angry and that you hate everything – be honest and real. Tell me what hurts. I'll listen and I won't say a word."

His fingers curled tightly into his fists, his stomach churned, and he fought the desire to run, to push her away like he always did, but he couldn't tell her anything. What he felt, what hurt, and what drove him to the point that anger was the easiest of emotions to feel – she just _couldn't_ understand and he didn't want to hurt her anymore tonight.

"It's late," he muttered thickly, dropping his eyes to the ground and, counting wooden planks in his head until his breath steadied. "You need to get home."

"That's it?" she asked, shaking her head. "Didn't you just hear a god damn word I said to you? Let me help-"

"You need to go," he repeated, glaring at her. "If you don't want me to take you, fine, good luck. I hope that guy isn't-"

"Go to hell," she interrupted, backing towards the stairs as she pointed a slender finger at him. Her eyes were dark again, all the understanding, the desperation she had to connect with him was now gone, and it was almost a relief. "I'm through, Jason." Her tone was spiteful again, full of open disgust, the kind of reaction he often cravedwas used to. "I don't want anything to do with you. Go back to Jake's and drown yourself in booze and whores – it's where you belong, you worthless, son of a bitch."


	22. Chapter 22

**[Prompt – Feeling sorry for yourself, and you present condition, is not only a waste of energy but the worst habit you could possibly have. – Dale Carnegie]**

**Chapter 22**

"I've been waiting for you all night," Carly purred, the momenast Jason opened the door to his room above the bar.

"Get out," he hissed, snatching the wooden chair that set at the desk and flinging it across the room. It busted against the doorway to the bathroom, the wood splintering as a leg came loose and rolled across the roomfloor. "Get the fuck out, Carly. I don't have time for your shit tonight."

"Jason," she murmured, sitting on her knees in the middle of the bed. The sheet slid down from her chest and that was when he realized she wasn't wearing any clothes. "What – what happened?"

"Get out," he repeated, launching his foot against the side of the desk before pounding his fists on top of it. Groaning, he leaned forward and pressed his face into his hands, wishing he could rub her Elizabeth's words out of his memory. "Now, Carly. I can't even look at you tonight."

She said his name again, softer this name, and his chest heaved as he listened to her gather her clothes from the floor. "Hurry up," he muttered, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles ached.

He wouldn't lose control, not in front of her. He would wait until she left, giving her time to make it down the stairs and to the parking lot. He pressed his face into his fists, clenching his eyes closed as he listened to her fumble with the belt of her jeans and her shoes.

She was not going to see him like this.

"Jason, what happened?" she asked softly, her hand settling suddenly against his back. He whipped around so quickly that she stumbled when she backed away, her eyes wide. She was afraid, like everyone else, she was afraid of him. "What is it? Is it work? Or is it things with Eliz-"

"Don't," he warned, shoving past her for the bathroom, pausing long enough to fling the chair back across the room. She gasped when it busted against the wall, losing another leg, and he slammed the door behind him without a word.

"Stop," he hissed to himself, slamming his head back against the door as he held his hands over his face, listening for the door to his room to open and then close again. "Get out, Carly. Just go."

"If you need anything," she started, but he slammed his head against the door again, and she quietedgrew quiet.

"I don't need anything from you," he hissed, hitting the door again, a satisfying pain searing through his head.

Sometimes he liked to hurt. It cut through the numbness that surrounded him, the walls that he put up, and nothing felt better. The kind of high that felt like he was feeling for the first time; pain was new, enjoyable, and he liked it so much. It made him feel real.

He let out a shaky breath when he the door closed to his room closed, knowing he'd call her later with some shitty excuse, that he had to because she had something he wanted, gave him something that no one else did, except maybe he ruined it. Maybe Carly would never come back like everyone else and that was probably a good thing.

"God dammit," he cried, slamming his body back against the door before slowly turning to face the mirror.

His eyes met in the reflection, saw the fear that lay within them, the hurt that came with what she'd said, all for reasons he couldn't figure out. She was nothing to him – at least they both agreed on that, and he wanted nothing more than to go on about his life of; guns, booze, and whores.

He liked it just fine.

"I hate you," he growled, lunging at the mirror and pounding his fist against it over and over. The mirror cracked, multiplying his reflection, forcing him to see the _worthless_, son of a bitch he was over and over. "I hate…" His voice trailed off as he slumped over the sink, his hands covered in blood and bits of glass.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be, was it? .

Slowly, he slumped to the floor, reaching for a dirty washrag that was on the counter, and doing did his best to wipe away the blood, but more kept coming. An ugly, flowing reminder of the _worthless_, son of a bitch he was.

He didn't know what he hated more – that she understood him or that she'd gotten through it. That she'd felt the same things; that dark depth of loneliness and the fury in the pit of her stomach.

Every fucking thing she described, he had felt. Felt so hard that it made his head hurt, his vision blur, and his stomach churn so roughly that he often thought it would be easier not to exist.

Sometimes he tempted fate just to see what would happen.

Did she feel _that_ bad?

Her entire life had been turned upside down on more than one account and she had lost so many things; her heart, herself, her love. The same things he had lost, but under different circumstances, leaving them connected in more ways than he liked.

She was stronger than he was, more sure of herself and her future. She wasn't as afraid of things she didn't know and refused to be haunted by her past.

And all he wanted to ask her was how – how to get past and let go, how to make peace and move on, but he couldn't.

That meant letting her know what he really felt, meant being real, and that would hurt her more than anything else between them had. He couldn't explain what he felt when he looked at her, when she touched him, or tried to break through – how he hated all of it because he would never be the person she wanted.

Swearing again, he slumped back against the door and wiped his bloody hands on his jeans. He turned them against one another, the shards of mirror sparkling in the poorly lit room. His phone vibrated in his pocket, the low ring echoing off in the tiny room, and he grimaced as he dug through for it, pushing the glass deeper into his hands.

"Morgan," he answered, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the door.

"It's O'Brien," came the familiar voice, their connection filled with static. "I'm calling like you asked. Warehouse on Pier 52. Be here in the next fifteen minutes."

**********

"Okay," Elizabeth sighed, carefully stacking her clothes on the counter in her studio. "This is going to have to do for a few days." She smoothed her hand over her belly, smiling to herself at the fluttering that burst through her. "I know it isn't ideal, but we'll have a place of our soon – one that's permanent, okay?"

She stroked her belly before pulling a sweatshirt from the stack and tugging it over her head, the studio chillier than her room at Kelly's. "I just don't know if I can go back there. Sure, to work, but…" She shook her head as she walked over to the couch and sat down on the sofa, her elbow propped on the couch arm. "We need a place of our own."

Leaning back against the cushions, she looked around the dimly room, her heart tightening as her gaze fell on the antique crib in the corner. As promised, Lila had it delivered, and this was really the only storage space Elizabeth had available. She still had mixed emotions about the gesture, and even though she knew Lila hadn't meant anything by giving it to her, it was a stark reminder of the life she'd lost with her husband.

Sighing, she pushed herself up and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch before walking across the room. Whether or not she would use it was still debatable, but she couldn't pretend it didn't excite her to think about her child sleeping safely inside it. Carefully, she shook it the blanket out and let it fall over the crib, causing it to now appear as a ghost in the night, something she had more than enough of.

"Maybe," she whispered, tenderly rubbing her stomach, a gesture she seemed incapable of stopping herself from doing these days. "Maybe, we'll just see how you feel about-" She sucked in her breath when there was a knock on her door.

It was gentle as if whoever it was thought she might be sleeping, but she that couldn't didn't stop the brief tremor of fear that ripped through her. Eventually, it would be pass, and the sounds and thoughts that would be keeping her up at night would go away, but all of this was still too fresh.

"Elizabeth, it's Sonny. Are you awake?" She grinned at the warmth in his voice and hurried to undo the deadbolt. His eyes swept over her when she opened it, clearly searching for signs of damage. "I know it's late, but I couldn't stop myself from checking on you."

"It's alright," she replied, stepping back and waving him inside. She reached around him to flick the light switch, her eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the light. "I was just surprised."

"You weren't sleeping?" he asked, scratching his chin as he looked around the room, his eyes settling on the lumpy sofa. She shook her head, embarrassed when his eyes softened. "Are yYou going to be okay here?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, her cheeks flushing at his concern. "I know it doesn't look like much, but…I feel safe here."

She almost explained that this was where she stayed after her rape, the only place that gave her solace, but she knew the mobster didn't need to hear anything else. He trusted her word, even if he had tried to side with Brenda earlier.

"Did Jason bring you here?" he asked, his eyes lingering on the ratty couch before shifting to hers.

"No," she answered, shaking her head as she stepped past him.

She hurried to gather the blankets up from the sofa, tossing them down onto the coffee table, and motioned for him to sit as she went to work folding them. It was pointless since she'd be layinglying down again when after he left, but she felt like she had to do something.

"You walked here by your-"

"I left Jason on the docks," she interrupted, hanging the blanket over her arm as she rolled folded it up. "It's only a good sixty seconds from there to-"

"A lot can happen in sixty seconds," he cut in gently, arching his eyebrows at her as he sat down. He rocked back and forth against the cushion as if checking for comfort, but didn't say anything about how lumpy it was. "He shouldn't have-"

"I don't want to talk about Jason anymore," she said, placing the folded blanket onto the coffee table and grabbing another. "Please."

He nodded, watching her carefully, maybe even waiting to see if she'd explain, but there was nothing to tell.

Sonny didn't need to know about her declarations or her fits of rage and the harsh words she'd said.

Tonight could have been a way for her and Jason to start over, to find some sort of understanding, but he wished pushed her away like he always did. She wasn't going to pretend that it didn't hurt to have him shut down on her after she'd been so opened, telling him things that even his former self didn't know.

In retrospect maybe it was stupid of her to think that if Jason saw that they were alike, that like him, she'd been through her own personal hell and knew what it felt like to lose herself, that he would see her differently. Or understand or feel less alone, but unfortunately Jason refused to let himself feel anything, and she was tired of trying.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, slipping his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulling out a thin white envelope.

"I was just a little shaken up," she replied honestly, smoothing her hands over the top of the blankets, a loose piece of her bandage catching against the fabric. "My nerves – they'll go away in a few days and I'll be fine."

"Good," he nodded, turning the envelope in his hands. "I don't know what to say to you, Elizabeth." His voice softened as his eyes slowly rose to hers. "My life – what I do, it touches the people I care about. I can try to prevent it, but there's always a slip. Someone always gets through."

His lips trembled as he moved to his feet, his eyes glassy. "I hate that this touched you…all because you work in my father's diner. It's not fair and I'm sorry that-"

"Don't," she interrupted, shaking her head at him. "This isn't your fault, Sonny. You didn't do this." She knew it was, that somewhere along the way, maybe someone had come after him for something he'd done, but she hated the idea of him carrying this guilt. "You have been nothing but good to me, so please, don't take any of it back."

The corner his mouth hitched into a crooked smile. "I'm not here to take it back, but I want you – I want you to think about everything you've said," he replied slowly, taking a deep breath. "You know, about understanding Jason's choices and what this life is – you've experienced now and if you want this child to be involved in with its father-"

"Honestly," she shrugged, nibbling her lip. "It doesn't matter. Jason and I – he's made his choice. And this life, this child is not what he wants."

Saying it aloud made it real, made her throat close up, and her heart skip a beat, but she had to come to terms with it. She couldn't spend her entire life living for someone else who didn't return her feelings. Her child deserved better and so did she.

"So," she sighed, waving her hands back and forth in front of her, "it doesn't matter anymore."

"I see," he nodded, his grin quickly fading, but he did his best to hide it. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here. And again, what happened tonight – I will find the men who did this and-"

"Please don't finish that sentence," she murmured softly, shivering at the thought of the type of revenge a man like Sonny Corinthos exacted.

"You won't have to worry," he repeated, turning the envelope in his hands again. "I know you probably don't want to be followed or anything, but until I find the men…I'd like to have a guard on you. They won't get close. You won't even know he's there."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she confessed, unsure of how to explain how it felt to know that _someone_ was watching her.

"Or he can follow closely and you'll know exactly where he is," he offered, holding out the envelope as if to seal the deal. Obviously, he wasn't going to let her fight him on this, and maybe knowing that someone was watching her would help her find sleep easier for the next few days. "It's going to take a few weeks to get Kelly's back into shape. I'm covering your pay as well as Georgie's and the other employees. Hourly wage, tips, and a little bonus."

She felt the thickness of the stack of money through the envelope and knew it was more than she deserved, more than she had probably earned since starting there. "Sonny, I cannot-"

"You will," he interrupted firmly, pushing the envelope back at her when she tried to return it. "This shouldn't have happened to you or my father. And I would have had him give you the money, but…" He shrugged, his shoulders slumping exhaustedly. "Apparently my father's been drinking again." She could tell from the devastation in his voice that he just needed to mention it to someone. "Did you know?...He usually takes to hiding liquor bottles, roaming around town late at night, that sort of thing."

She clasped the envelope in her hands, contemplating whether or not to tell the truth – that Mike had been drinking _and_ gambling, but decided it wasn't her place. They were father and son who had found peace, probably time and time again, and she couldn't bare the thought of making things worse for Sonny right now.

"Your father is very private," she replied, telling herself that avoiding the question wasn't necessarily a lie.

"Yeah," he nodded, starting for the door, "he is." He pulled it open and looked over his shoulder, forcing a smile. "So, uh, the guard…"

She closed her eyes, thinking only of the safety of her child, and the possibility that whoever had broken into the diner would look for her. She hadn't seen any part of him, wouldn't recognize his voice, or even his smell. She'd been too tired scared to focus on any of that, but he might think she'd be the type of woman to go to the police. "Close," she said, dropping her hand to her belly, "but not too close."

**********

"Well, what did you find out?" Sonny called out, rounding the corner to the hallway of one his warehouses, his hands on his hips.

Jason looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, his hands wrapped in a couple of towels O'Brien had found for him. An opened first aid kit laid at his side, next to a bottle of peroxide that he'd dumped over his hands after the guard had warned him of infections. Honestly, he hadn't thought about anything except how good it felt to hurt.

"The men weren't after you," Jason answered, wincing as he pushed himself up from the floor. He flexed his fists, pausing to flick a few pieces of glass from his hands. "They were after Mike."

"What?" he growled, narrowing his eyes as he stepped forward, his fingers curling into his hips. "Why would they be after…" He shook his head and looked away, his face reddening with embarrassment of his father's poor decisions.

"I'd have rather they been after you, boss," Johnny spoke up, craning his neck and looking into the small, square glass window of the room that housed the assailants.

The guard had filled Jason in on how many times exactly this had happened; Mike swearing off drinking and gambling only to relapse when a new bookie made his way into town. Sonny did his damnedest to keep this from happening, but it seemed inevitable, most likely because he was trying to control his father's life.

"Are you sure?" Sonny asked quietly, shaking his head as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling, glaring at something no one else could see. Hisat his father's past and mistakes, privately scolding himself for the unconditional love he couldn't keep himself from having.

"Yeah," O'Brien nodded, shifting his eyes to Jason. "Morgan roughed them up real good, especially the one who grabbed-"

"I knew you'd want to know who they were working for," Jason interrupted, leaning over and tossing the empty peroxide bottle into the first aid kit and slamming it closed. "They weren't cooperative at first, so…I made them talk."

Before he'd followed after Elizabeth outside Kelly's, he'd asked O'Brien to call him if they found the men who did this. Thankfully the guard understood his desire to be a part of this, to hurt the people who had done this without asking any questions. It was a good thing too, because Jason wasn't even sure why he wanted to go after them.

At first, he was surprised by how easy it was to threaten someone and then to put those threats into actions when they refused to comply. Johnny had told him he was a natural for their line of work, which was probably why Sonny had hired him. And Jason ignored how good it felt that he had a place where he belonged.

Craving revenge seemed natural and after everything Elizabeth had told him, he was desperate to have it, even if she'd never know he had a part in it. It was fine by him – he liked for her to think that he was boozing it up with Carly at Jake's.

He liked it just fine.

"What exactly did they say?" Sonny asked, taking a deep breath, his composure slowly fading.

Jason hesitated, looking at O'Brien who nodded for him to go ahead. "They work for a bookie," he replied, looking his boss in the face. "The tech guy – whatever his name is-"

"Spinelli," he Sonny interrupted, briefly cracking a smile at Jason's failure to remember his name.

Something told him his boss thought the kid was as weird as he did. "He already traced the bookie." Sonny arched an eyebrow as he looked between the two men. "He works for Anthony Zacchara."

The kingpin clucked his tongue as he stepped up to the closed door, stretching to peer through the window at the men. He ducked his head and closed his eyes for just a second, long enough to think before he looked back at Jason and Johnny. "Get rid of them," he replied, waving his finger at the door. "I don't care how. Just get rid of them."

"What about Zacchara?" Jason asked, the question feeling natural. That was how things worked in this business; someone struck and revenge would immediately be extractedbegan immediately.

"I have a meeting with him tomorrow to go over things," he said, scratching his chin with his hand as a slow smirk spread over his face. "I'll let him think things are okay. Hopefully he doesn't find out about these two. Chances are he paid them to do a job and expected them to leave town."

"Francis and Ritchie found them near the border," O'Brien spoke up, leaning against the wall, his arms folded as if this was a daily routine.

"Exactly," Sonny replied, peeking through the window one last time. "Anthony will think things are fine. He'll probably express his condolences and by the end of the week…" He shrugged. "We'll make sure he's taken care of."


	23. Chapter 23

**[Prompt – Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.**** – M****aria Robinson]**

**Chapter 23 **

"Please just admit that this place has potential," Elizabeth said, dragging the guard into the tiny apartment from the hallway. "Please."

"Uh…" Johnny O'Brien ducked his head as she led him through the extremely small living room to the nook that acted as the kitchen.

Or at least, that's he thought it was supposed to be. There was a refrigerator that sat unevenly next to the stove and a single counter whose little space was taken up by the sink that sat inside of it. There was no place for table and chair set of any kind, but clearly none of this mattered.

"I told you," Brenda sighed, poking her head out from the bathroom.

Immediately, the two friends began bickering as they had been ever since they met at the Brownstone so Elizabeth could show Brenda the apartment she was planning on renting. The former model instantly disagreed with her friend's choice and it had been hell ever since. And that was just what he had picked up on while standing in the hallway.

"Johnny," the petite brunette murmured softly, twisting a fat, chocolate curl around her fingertip. "Please tell Brenda it has potential."

He shrugged, his eyes sweeping over the kitchen, grimacing at the cracked and peeling yellow paint. Before she could scold him, he turned around and walked back into the living room, giving the place credit for the beautiful hardwood floor, but that was about all he could see.

"Oh, come on," Elizabeth hissed, stomping into the room, her hands on her hips. "Sure, it needs a fresh coat of paint and a little love, but it _has_ potential." She looked between him and Brenda as she gestured around the room. "The windows are really big and it's so beautiful in here when the sunlight comes through in the morning. This room will be perfect for painting and…hanging out. I can get a new couch, one that folds out into a bed-"

"Which would be unnecessary if you'd just rent a two bedroom," Brenda interrupted, pulling away from the doorway after she'd leaned against it.

"I don't need a two bedroom," Elizabeth muttered, stalking across the room and pulling at two doors that slid together to cut off what Johnny assumed was the bedroom. "This is perfect for a nursery. I already measured to make sure that the crib would fit."

"The one you aren't sure you even want," her friend chimed in, rolling her eyes.

"I want it," she corrected, folding her arms as she walked into the room, which was surprisingly larger than the living room. "It belongs here."

Sighing, she hung her head, one hand pressed against her belly, a stance the guard had become all too familiar with. She did it when she was happy or sad or exhausted, and the only way to tell how affected she was, was by looking at how tenderly she stroked her stomach. The lighter the touch, the more upset she was, and that usually meant he had to do something before she cried.

He really, really hated to see a woman cry.

Unfortunately, he'd seen Elizabeth Webber cry a lot in the last week.

The first time being the night that he found her at the diner, her hands bloodied and cheeks so flush and wet from tears that she could barely see. And it had been a constant rush of emotions ever since, though he knew her hormones were probably to blame for that. Not to mention that she'd also been attacked. Sometimes he saw her crying as she dug through boxes or she'd burst into tears while painting, apologizing profusely every time, saying she had no idea why this was happening.

He was nervous about guarding her, and he was really surprised that Sonny had asked, but he understood that his boss wanted someone he could trust to look out for her. He'd been firm in telling Johnny to keep his distance, which the guard respected, but he felt like he should at least introduce himself and let Elizabeth know exactly who was following her.

She was a little awkward when he showed up on at her studio, but rambled her way through it, and insisted that he come in and have a cup of decaf coffee with her.

Of course, that made things even more awkward because they were perpetual strangers, but O'Brien was usually good at cracking the right joke to put an uncomfortable situation at ease.

She seemed to enjoy his company, insisting that he at least sit outside her studio in a chair instead of standing, and if she was awake and painting or poking around, she brought him inside to sit on the couch.

So much for keeping his distance.

Sonny didn't mind when Johnny explained what had happened, and they both agreed Elizabeth probably wanted to have someone close, but didn't know exactly how to go about it. He asked Johnny to continue guarding her until Anthony was completely handled, and the guard didn't mind so much, except that it had been the most difficult task he'd ever been given.

It wasn't just because she was a woman. He had guarded plenty of them in the past for his boss, but this was different.

This wasn't a woman that necessarily belonged to anyone, but she had a connection that ran deep. It was one that everyone who worked for Sonny knew about and one that was very apparent every time he looked at Jason Morgan.

He'd admired the man from the very moment that his boss hired him. Jason was dependable, hardworking, and determined to make something of himself, as well as a natural in their line of work. His gun fit perfectly in his palm and he never missed a shot he fired. It was obvious that Jason liked his job. It was something he was good at, something that made sense when nothing else did, and the man _needed_ it.

Johnny knew what it was like to feel anxious, to have an itch that he couldn't quite scratch, and to feel so mixed up that he wasn't sure where to turn. The only difference was that he was well aware of his identity, of the man he was and the man he could be, and Jason was struggling to find either. Only two people seemed capable of understanding him, of knowing who he was and who he could be, and Jason was only interested in one of them.

Sonny was good to the men who worked for him; admired their loyalty and strength, but it wasn't the type of admiration that kept a bed warm or reminded him why he went home at night. Despite what Jason thought he needed that, especially now more than ever, and he'd been so determined to push Elizabeth Webber out of his life, breaking both their hearts in the process. The only difference was that Elizabeth understood the heartache, had felt it sometime before, and Jason just didn't know what to do with any of it.

No one was going to be able to do much for the man until he figured that out. Sure, he could pick up a woman at Jake's and take her up to his room, but that was only fun for so long. Even an anti-monogamous man like Johnny O'Brien sometimes craved commitment, and he liked to think that commitment was something that was seared onto Morgan's brain whether he liked it or not.

Not every attribute of his former life could be erased, even if he was hell bent on fighting them the entire way.

A man that fucked up and hurting inside needed a woman, a strong woman to hold him together when he fell apart, and until Jason realized it, things weren't going to change.

At least he wanted her. Johnny could see that much whenever her name was mentioned or Sonny asked how she was doing. His eyes softened for a split second, quickly hardening again as if more pissed off than anything that he actually felt something for her.

"Johnny." He snapped to attention to find Elizabeth glaring at him, her arms over her chest. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes welled up with tears when he looked her in the eye. "Who am I kidding? This place is a fucking dump."

She turned away before she started to cry, raking her fingers through her messy curls. "I just thought – I liked it, you know. It's not too big, not too much responsibility, and I can be moved out of here before my baby realizes that we're living in…"

O'Brien clenched his jaw as he looked over at Brenda, who was now clearly regretting every harsh word she'd said about the apartment. She was the type of woman who always came on too strong and she didn't realize how far she'd gone until it was too late, which probably worked for their friendship because Elizabeth was the type to take her as she was, without any fault.

"Alright, Webber," he sighed, reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders as he steered back into the bedroom. This was the first time the woman had been happy – truly happy – in the last week. "This room has a lot of potential. You can paint – well, we'll paint it because fumes aren't good the baby…some nice color, something soft and easy on the eyes, and then you can come in here and put some mural on the wall. Flowers or something for a girl. Animals for a boy. That sort of thing."

"And in here," he murmured, pulling her back to the living room, "again, some paint. A nice fold-out couch – something fancy. You sold that Jaguar, so spend the money well because you need to sleep comfortably. And you know, maybe even a flatscreen and a TIVO so you have all those weird, girly shows to watch."

"I am not buying a flatscreen," she muttered, rolling her eyes as he continued to talk about getting some throw rugs, some plants, and hanging some of her paintings on the wall.

She shook her head in protest of every idea he tossed out, not taking too well to being patronized, which isn't at all what he was trying to do. Sometimes people need a little shove in the right direction to feel like what they were doing was right, and this could be very right for her and her child. It wasn't a permanent place, but it was a start, which was exactly what she needed.

"Unfortunately I have to agree with the oaf," Brenda chimed in, her eyes roaming around the room. "Or maybe I just like the idea of spending lots of money to decorate."

"Not too much money," Elizabeth gripped, a slow smiling spreading across her face as she gently rubbed her eyes with her fingertips.

"Of course not, but you can splurge on some things," her friend insisted, rolling her eyes. "You're off work for the next couple of weeks. Just imagine all the compulsive shopping you could do in that time, and honey, you need some consumer therapy." She held out her hand and started to tick off items. "Maternity clothes, antique furniture because that's really all that suits your old soul." She grinned. "Some really cute lamps and steel pots and pans – not that you cook, but we'll get you a really good dish to make your brownies in. And a microwave for those takeout leftovers."

"Now you're both just making fun of me," she moaned, pulling herself away from Johnny's touch. "This place is a-"

"Look, I'm a former model," Brenda interrupted, pressing a hand to her chest. "If it's not a penthouse suite at the Hilton, I need time to adjust, but this could be…cozy, warm, and homely, which is what you and your baby need. Just keep really good vodka ready for martinis every time Aunt Bren comes over."

"And really, it's just my kind of place," Johnny shrugged, forcing a grin. "If you think this place is a dump, you should come see mine."

The corner of Elizabeth's mouth curved upwards as she looked around the room, eyes slowly refilling with all the hope she had had when she first walked in. "It just needs a little love," he added, shrugging half-heartedly. "You don't have to give up just because something's a little broken."


	24. Chapter 24

**[Prompt - Just fucking write something, Amber.]**

**Chapter 24**

"Nervous?" Johnny asked, tightening his hands around the steering wheel, the car slowingand slowing the car down as they neared their destination.

Jason shook his head, shrugging as he stared out the car window, barely noticing when Johnny leaned over to pull a spare clip from the glove box. He doubted they would need it, but O'Brien had stressed the importance of being prepared for anything. "Anthony went after Sonny," he Jason murmured, knowing that was how things went in their business. "He used his father and…" He trailed off, knowing there was no neednot needing to remind Johnny what had happened to Elizabeth.

It was all anyone talked about – the gossip even existed amongst the guards who were about as bad as women when it came to speculating about what exactly what had happened. On more than one account occasion Jason had heard Sonny and Johnny giving the men hell for their loose lips, and sometimes he Jason wondered if they talked about it so much in hopes that Jason he would join in. He wasn't an idiot; he knew how people looked at him and how they talked every time he turned his back. Even Sonny was probably guilt of it, but Jason told himself their curiosity was normal, especially when it came to Elizabeth because she held her ex-husband in such high regards despite what had happened.

Or rather she used to.

He hadn't seen her since that night at the dineron the docks, and despite his attempts not to think about her, it was impossible. Her words swirled through his head, keeping him up at night, his stomach knotted so tightly that he sometimes got sick. It wasn't something he was proud of – to allow Elizabeth to have this kind of affect on him, but there seemed to be no way to stop it. She haunted his thoughts every day and night, her hateful and disgusted tone causing him to cringe every time he replayed that moment in the docks on his mind.

Mostly, he hated that he didn't know _why_ he cared. At first, he thought it was something natural, something leftover from Jason Quartermaine, but there was so much he could have remembered from his former life than just his wife. Sure, she loved him and he loved her, another thing he'd yet to figure out, but it was possible that it was something that was so deep, it would never be shaken.

And that thought disgusted him, made his stomach churn, and his body ache – how could he love her? He was sure that he didn't. It was impossible when he didn't know her, when his fists clenched just from thinking about her, but there had to be something. There was a reason that she wouldn't go away – physically and mentally, but he didn't have the desire to figure out why.

Jason Quartermaine was gone and so was were any feelings that were he had for Elizabeth, that much he knew for sure, because how he felt about her now – well, it definitely was _not_ love.

"She's doing okay, you know," Johnny repeated, tugging at the stiff collar of his dress shirt. He watched Jason carefully, who'd been so deep in thought that he hadn't heard the guard the first couple of times he spoke.

He shrugged, not wanting to know why Johnny felt the need to address her in any way. If there was one thing the man had been good about, it was not mentioning that he was guarding her, that he was with her nearly every waking moment, except tonight.

Because tonight, they had orders to rid Port Charles of the head of the Zacchara organization. It had taken longer for everything to fall than their boss wanted for everything to fall into place, but air tight alibis were needed for everyone involved, including Johnny and Jason, so time was necessary.

Sonny was off at some charity gala at the Metro Court Hotel, rubbing elbows with the very people who would provide his perfect alibi. Jake's was going to be the sight of a party for none other than Johnny Zacchara himself – some stupid thing he had planned for his new girlfriend's birthday, unbeknownst to the fact that he would be drinking with the very men who had murdered his father.

His girlfriend was some nurse from General Hospital, so they counted on her friends to be there, and the very upstanding women of Port Charles would get them out of trouble. As for where they were prior to the party, Coleman and Robin Drake (the police commissioner's niece) had seen the men enter their rooms just twenty minutes ago only to leave on the fire escape. Sonny had guards on watch all over town to make sure they weren't followed. Breaking into the Zacchara estate would probably take longer than the drive and actual murder and no one would know they had committed the crime.

Johnny cleared his throat as his phone rang, shifting to slip it from his pocket. "Yeah," he grunted, pressing it against his ear as he looked at Jason from the corner of his eye. "Alright." He snapped it closed and looked over at his partner, his face grave. "You ready for this?"

It was the fourth time he'd asked Jason that since they got in the car, and it was as if he O'Brien expected him to back out and decide he couldn't do this, but in a strange way, Jason had never been so sure of anything. Most people wouldn't see look at the situation as black and white, but he couldn't find another way to look at it.

Sure, Anthony had a family – a son who couldn't stand him and a daughter who Jason learned had been banished to Europe. Sonny seemed overly positive on the fact that Johnny would happily step into being the head of the family. His father's death wouldn't haunt him like it would most sons; it would open doors.

"I'm ready," Jason said, leaning forward in his seat and pulling his glock from where it'd been tucked into the back of his jeans.

Johnny eyes fell to his tight grip, his face tightening at the bandages that were still wrapped around his hands from the night he'd broken the mirror. "They still hurt?" he asked, nodding towards them.

"Sometimes," he Jason admitted, flexing his fist around the gun, the smooth metal soothing against his palm. He couldn't explain how it right it felt to have the gun in his hand; how natural and easy, like it should have always been there, or maybe it was just because he felt like it was something he was good at. Clearing his throat, he took a deep breath, catching his reflecting reflection in the side mirror as he reached for the door handle. "Let's go."

*********

AJ was trying to be patient, and well, being a Quartermaine nearly made that impossible. Some characteristics existed so deep inside him, bled through him in ways he couldn't stop, and he had to deal with the fact that he was like his family whether he wanted to be or not. The only person who ever seemed capable of fighting the overbearing, controlling aspect of who the Quartermaines were was Jason – the Jason before the accident, and he wasn't like the Golden Boy by any means. .

"That This goes," Elizabeth said firmly, closing the lid to the box in a hurry as if to hide what she was tossing away, but it was too late. AJ had already seen everything, but yet she continued to brush it off. "I don't need anything in here."

And this was precisely why he was worried about her.

Sure, between him and Brenda they had been pushing her hard to let go of her past with Jason and move forward, and now that she was doing it, they were afraid it was too fast. One day she was defending her feelings for him and the next she was packing every memorable item into a box and sending it off to Goodwill. It was impossible not to notice that this determination had kicked in after the attack at Kelly's, and AJ wasn't a fool; he knew the two were connected in some way.

Brenda had called him the morning after the incident, but she was too late, he'd already read about some the break-in at the diner in the newspaper. The article had chalked it up to nothing more than a few kids out vandalizing local hotspots, but AJ knew better than that. When a place of business was run by the father of the town's kingpin, it was mob violence, and _everyone_ knew that, even the schmuck who had written the garbage of an article.

When he called, Elizabeth insisted she was fine, but she was lying like she always did. She was the type of woman to hold what she felt inside, desperate to keep herself from appearing weak. He'd seen the fear in her eyes all those years before and there was no doubt this shook her to the core, and it was a familiar kind of terror, one that she could never get rid of.

Terror she had to relive all because of Sonny Corinthos – the dirtiest, most conniving man in all of Port Charles. He may spend his money on youth centers and soup kitchens, even adding a new wing to the hospital every five years or so, but he didn't fool anyone. His money couldn't cover his wrongs and that night e break-in had proven that. Elizabeth was quite possibly the most innocent person of all and she'd been pulled into this – her life was now connected to his parade of money and guards, and he hated that his nephew or niece was being touched by this.

He tried to ignore the guard sitting outside her building in a sleek, black, bulletproof car, and when he finally commented on it, Elizabeth made some joke about how Johnny usually sat outside her door, but he wasn't available today. She was becoming friends with the very people who had endangered herit and it disgusted him, but at the same time, he thought he knew why she was doing it. They were Jason's people now, his colleagues and friends – if you could call them that, and maybe she hoped in aligning herself with them, he would see her differently.

It was no secret that he Jason Morgan saw her as exactly whatlike most of the people in Port Charles did; Jason Quartermaine's trophy wife. No one knew how much they loved one another or that they were all the other needed. She was just a beautiful girl, lacking in wealth who practically won the lottery because a rich man had asked her to marry him. Of course, everyone's opinions changed after the accident, and the same people who gossiped about the popular couple now clucked their tongues and murmured about how sad they were for her, when really, they just wanted the story like anyone else.

"Unless you or your parents want it, it goes," she repeated firmly.

He grunted, shaking his head as he poked around, and she looked away when he pulled out Jason's old PCU sweatshirt, the writing on the front nearly faded. "You love this sweatshirt," he murmured, smoothing his thumb over the worn material. "You wore wore it all the time."

"_Wore_," she stressed, walking over to the small, makeshift bookshelf in the corner. She stooped down on her knees and carefully started to pack the books, and AJ could tell that she wanted him to let it go, but he couldn't. "I'm not – I'm not going to wear it ever again, so…"

He sighed, placing it back in the box and closing it just as she had moments before. "Look, I know that I've been telling you to let go and move on, but – but you don't have to pack up your memories."

"And I don't have to live with them either," she pointed out, her vision blurring.

"Are you sure you're okay?" AJ asked calmly, walking over to her, his hand settling on her shoulder. "I know that you've been stressed and worried – that what happened at Kelly's-"

"None of it's connectedIt's just hormones," she interrupted, though he knew it was a lie.

What had happened that night only reminded her that she had no choice but to move forward with her life. There was no point in dreaming of what could be when nothing was going to happen the way she wanted. Jason had his life now, she had hers, and it was time that she moved forward. And while AJ was relieved that she finally realized all of those things, he disliked how much they hurt her. He couldn't stand the idea of her being in so much pain.

"You know I don't believe that," he sighed, gently squeezing her shoulder. "A lot has happened – the attack, now you're moving, and the guards-"

"AJ," she groaned, pulling away from him as she moved to her feet. "I thought you came here to help me."

"I'm worried about you," he shrugged, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"I could say the same for you," she pointed out smugly, arching her eyebrow. "When was the last time you had a good night's rest? It's important for your recov-"

"We're not talking about my recovery," he interrupted, narrowing his eyes at her. Whether he was overworked or not, or how much sleep he was getting, and if he'd make it to his AA meetings every week were the last things she needed to be worrying about.

"This is about you," he continued, waving his hand around the room. "How you're shuffling around from one place to the next when you have the means to really settle, Elizabeth."

"I am," she reminded him smugly, but he just laughed and rolled his eyes.

"The Brownstone?" he asked, throwing up his hands up. Grandfather had quite the fit when he learned about the diner break- in, and when AJ said she was moving, the poor man nearly had a heart attack. Not that he could blame him; that side of town was rough and heavy because ofwith crime and she might as well be renting a room from Jake's. "The bar was actually better than the crummy old building. "That place isn't fit for a person to live, let alone a-"

"What would you know about the Brownstone?" she cut in, folding her arms over her chest. "When is the last time that anyone in the Quartermaine family has gone to that part of town?"

"We don't go there for a reason," he replied angrily, shaking his head as he looked away from her. "You could give yourself a good life, Elizabeth. Don't be stilted to prove a point. You're just like _him_."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked, clearly wanting him to accuse her of wanting things to be _this_ hard.

"That you want to get away from the life you had before as badly he does," AJ said, walking over to the couch and snatching his jacket from the arm. She just stared him at him, her firsts curling against the sides of her chest. "You could have it easy – have everything you ever wanted, but instead, you're throwing all that away."

"I never wanted that life," she cried, swallowing hard. "I just wanted to be with Jason." She cleared her throat as she walked over to the door and jerked it open, silently telling him to get the hell out of her studio. "And I can't be with him."

"No, you can't," AJ agreed, shrugging on his jacket as he walked over to her. His face was still hardened, but his eyes apologetic. He only wanted the best for her and he couldn't help but dislike her determination to find the best on her own.

"But," he added, placing his hand on her shoulder and, waiting until she lifted her eyes to his, "maybe you're trying to create the kind of life that you think he'll want."

She gasped, her lips parting in surprise, but her eyes remained solid. She didn't blink or flinch or show the slightest hint of emotion. "I'll see you later," she murmured, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for helping me pack." She waited patiently until he was in the hallway and when he turned to say something – to apologize or take it back – hell, he didn't really know, she closed the door in his face and flicked turned the lock.

**********

"He's got some nerve," Elizabeth sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned up against the door, waiting to hear hisfor his footsteps to disappear down the hallway.

She should have known when he offered to help her pack that it was nothing more than a setup. He'd probably been in cahoots with Brenda the entire time. While her best friend was trying to be understanding, Brenda often fell short in similar ways as Elizabeth's brother-in-law. They were wealthy and never had to stress about money or think a year ahead and wonder if they'd be able to feed their child. Sometimes Elizabeth envied them for that. It wasn't as though she had to really worry; there were plenty of people in her life who'd be willing to loan and give, but she didn't want any handouts.

It was silly, but she wanted to prove that she could do this on her own. And if it meant selling the stupid Jaguar that Jason bought her as a wedding gift (apparently cars were tradition for new wives in their family), then she would selle that car and not give a damn. It was just an expensive hunk of metal whose best memories existed when she and Jason were in the backseat on the side of the roads that led out of town.

AJ thought she was being like everyone else – shoving Jason's accident to a place where it wouldn't be touched or acting as though her _ex_–husband had died. She didn't need pieces of their life to remember everything that had happened between them. Her memories weren't forgotten or ruined because of what happened, and some stupid old sweatshirt wasn't going to help her remember him any more vividly.

She kept what mattered to her; a stack of books they used to read aloud to one another when they couldn't sleep at night, a slim album of photos, a pair of cufflinks (the first expensive gift she'd ever bought him), and Lila's ring. She'd tried to give it back to the old woman, and Edward had really wanted it, but his wife had all but threatened his life for even trying. She'd told Elizabeth she couldn't imagine that ring on another woman's finger, so Elizabeth held onto it, sometimes wearing it on her right hand or a chain around her neck. It was far too beautiful to sit in a box and collect dust.

Sighing exhaustedly, she pushed herself away from the door, determined not to let AJ get to her. Without realizing it, he could be as infuriating as the rest of the Quartermaines. She hated that they thought life should be easy simply because it could, and they all knew that she thought that, which was probably why she was never really accepted.

Elizabeth had never wanted to be a Quartermaine. They were wealthy and smug, and while she hadn't been poor, she was by no means an equal in their eye. She'd just wanted Jason – from the very first time she'd met him, she knew she was going to marry him, even if she had to trick him into it. It was love at first sight on her end, and she quickly learned that Jason felt the same way, thanks to Brenda, of course. She was determined to get them down the aisle when they'd barely been dating for a few months and, but Elizabeth secretly enjoyed that someone else felt like she did.

Hell, she would have married Jason Quartermaine after a week had he asked. Instead, he dated her…and dated her…and dated her. It took a few years (and various complications) before he got down on one knee in the gazebo of Lila's rose garden, confessing he had wanted to ask for so long but was afraid she'd say no. She still remembered everything; the smell of the flowers, the way nervous way his mouth twitched, and the realization that he was giving her Lila's ring.

Shaking her head, she looked down at her ring finger, smoothing her thumb over it, and realizing just now how bare it felt. There had always been some kind of security in that ring. It would catch the light just right on a bad day, and she'd look down and think, thinking of her husband, and suddenly everything was fine.

She missed that security and struggled to find it in new places. Brenda was so busy with her husband and his own society functions and AJ just couldn't understand what she was feeling. She wasn't sure if anyone did, and sometimes that forced her to feel so alone it hurt, and then she'd think of Mike, Sonny, even Johnny, the people who did bother to check on her and were looking outwere looking out for her, and she felt better. Even if they wouldn't be around forever, they were here now when she needed them the most.

She jumped, startled when there was a knock on the door, and she laughed at how it made her heart beat fast. Hurrying over, she pulled it open, relieved to see Johnny standing in the hallway and not AJ.

"You look surprised," he said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his suit pants as he rocked back on his heels.

"AJ just left. I thought you were him…coming back," she replied, clearing her throat when she realized how broken her voice sounded. Johnny nodded understandingly, not asking any questions, but obviously knowing AJ had upset her. "So, you're back…"

"Sort of," he grinned, his eyes softening. "I, uh, I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. I have somewhere I have to be, but…"

"Sure," she murmured, returning his smile as she waved him inside, feeling a little nervous by his quiet demeanor. Johnny was often loud and boisterous, a little crude depending on his moodn, and she looked forward to his presence. It was strange that someone had come into her life just a couple weeks ago and now she found herself needing him. She supposed it was because he was part of the small group of people who did support her. "So…"

"You're almost packed," he said, tossing his head towards the various boxes. "I've got some guys who are going to help whenever you're ready."

"Thank you," she replied, gently closing the door.

The guards had been overly kind; painting, cleaning, and even helping to furnish her apartment. Max had come up with a new refrigerator and Milo a stove, saying they were just extras they had on hand. She knew better, but she was too happy to fight them, so she let them install the new appliances and dispose of the old ones.

"No problem," he shrugged, raking a hand through his messy hair. "Look, I, uh, I can't stay long, but I wanted to tell you that you…don't need a guard anymore."

She just looked at him, not sure she understood, but she remembered that Sonny said this was just for the time being. And that she didn't even likeShe hadn't even liked the idea at first, but now…

"I'm not going anywhere," he added, watching her closely as if he thought she was going to fall apart or something. "We're going to help you move. Get you settled. Make sure there's not going to be any trouble at the Brownstone, but you won't need us around constantly."

"O-okay," she stammered, folding her arms over her chest and trying to ignore how scared she suddenly felt.

"I thought you'd be relieved to not having us hanging around all the time," Johnny teased, slowly walking over to her.

She forced a smile and nodded. "I am. You're all…very annoying."

"You're a terrible liar," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and looking her in the face. "If you want to have a guard, I can arrange it, but Sonny thought you'd want us gone."

It was obvious from the way he said it that he wouldn't be the one guarding her. "I'm fine," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I just – it was nice to have people around, but I have to get used to…doing this on my own."

"I'm not going anywhere," he repeated seriously, and she didn't bother to point out that he was, that he wouldn't be outside her door anymore. "If you need me, you know where to find me. And I just may have to stop by and watch you paint sometime."

She laughed. "You hate watching me paint. This has probably been really boring for you."

"Well, the company wasn't so bad," he murmured, squeezing her shoulder, his eyes turning serious. "You can do this, Elizabeth. You don't need anyone. That kid is going to be lucky to have you."

"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes when they filled with tears.

He leaned forward, slipping his arm around her shoulders, and brushed his lips against her temple. "You're going to be okay," he said firmly, pulling back to look at her again. She nodded, damning her hormones for the tears that slipped down her cheeks. "And if you're not…or if you're losing faith…just borrow some strength from the rest of us."


	25. Chapter 25

**[Prompt – "Wasn't it the hurt, that made it easier, to forget the things we both left behind."- "Ooh Oh" by Keri Nobel]**

**Chapter 25**

"He took that well," Johnny murmured, leaning against the bar beside Jason as he took a swig of his beer, his eyes narrowed on the young man who had just lost his father nearly an hour ago. "Or maybe he doesn't want to ruin the party. Anything for a girl, huh?"

Jason shrugged as he slumped forward, anxiously rubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he sipped a shortfrom a glass of whiskey. On any other night he would have drank beer, but his nerves were still a little rattled by the night's events, and this was the only thing that was going to relax him.

Well, besides...

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes seeking out Carly, who had made herself very present when she realized he was in the bar. He had started to call her once or twice in the past couple weeks, but wouldn't let himself give in just so he could take her to bed. And judging from the way she'd been watching him, he wouldn't have to apologize to get her upstairs. The corner of her mouth hitched as her smirk faded into a smile, obviously loving the attention he was giving her from the corner of his eye.

Yeah, he didn't have to worry about going to bed alone that tonight. Not that he'd been going alone anyway. He'd managed to have a couple of good nights with some little brunette, but then she started to come around without him calling, so he told her to stay away, which worked out well since most people in this town were terrified of him.

"Here comes Zacchara," O'Brien muttered against the mouth of his beer bottle.

Jason's hand trembled slightly against his glass of whiskey, unsure of how he was supposed to look Johnny Zacchara in the eye when he was the one who pumped several bullets into the boy's father. Johnny O'Brien had told him it was natural to feel nervous at first, saying it was different when you had to look someone in the face afterwards.

"How you doing?" O'Brien asked quietly, looking over his shoulder and ordering the boy a shot. "Something to help take the edge off."

"Does Sonny know?" Johnny asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Jason was surprised with how well he was taking the news. He'd Jason had never lost anyone, had only experienced death that night in New York and with Anthony, but he imagined it had to be hard. It had to make you feel things deeper than you wanted to, had to make a person ache in the most unimaginable of ways. And yet Johnny received the call, disappeared out of the bar for a few minutes, and then went straight back into his girlfriend's arms as if nothing was wrong.

"Not sure," O'Brien replied, handing him the shot of whiskey. "He's at that charity event for Queen of Angels."

Johnny nodded, taking a deep breath before he tossed back the shot. "It's kind of crazy." Both men just looked at him. "You know, I'm – I'm the head of my family now." He shook his head, chuckling at himself under his breath. "And I don't even want to know who did it. I just want to move on."

O'Brien cleared his throat as his eyes flashed to Jason's, surprised that Sonny had been right about Johnny's reaction.

"My father lived his life trying to get revenge just for the sake of getting revenge," Johnny sighed, ordering another shot. His eyes left the two men to look into the corner of the room where a crowd group of nurse's sat doing tequila shots. "I don't want to live like that." He nodded as he started away from the bar. "Have a good night, guys."

"Damn," O'Brien grunted, tipping his head towards Jason. "I think we underestimated the guy. Maybe he's been waiting for his old man to die all along."

"You think he'll work with Sonny?" Jason asked, swirling the dark liquid around in his glass.

"If he knows what's good for him," he replied, craning his neck to look across the bar when one a fellow guard came into the bar. "I'll be right back."

Jason nodded, taking a long gulp of the alcohol and enjoying the way it burnt his throat. He looked over his shoulder to see Johnny talking to Francis.

"I didn't think your boyfriend was ever going to leave you alone," Carly purred, stepping up beside him and sliding her hand over his shoulder. She reached around and slipped his glass from his hand, grinning as she brought it to her lips. "It's been two weeks, Jason. I don't know how much longer I can wait on you."

"I didn't ask you to wait," he replied, taking the glass back and setting it on the bar. "Besides, you aren't the type of woman to sit around and wait."

"No," she agreed, pressing her body against his side and causing an all too familiar heat to radiate between them. She paused, watching his face for the slightest hint of jealous, before adding, "No one's as good as you."

He smirked, arching an eyebrow as he turned on his stool, his legs parting wide enough for her to step between them. "You're full of shit."

She laughed huskily, leaning in to nuzzle the side of his face, her lips brushing over his cheek as she talked. "That's what you like most about me." She skimmed a hand up his thigh, squeezing gently at first than harder. "Come on, Jas. The least you owe me-"

"I don't owe you anything," he interrupted, placing his hand over hers when it inched just a little too high to be considered decent in public.

"Not even a game of pool?" she pouted, sticking out her lower lip as she continued to rake her nails down his thigh, despite his attempt to stop her. "You win and I'll let you take me upstairs without so much as an explanation as to why you were such a jackass and haven't called me in two weeks."

"And if you win?" he asked, leaning back in his stool and taking a sip of his drink.

"You can still take me upstairs," she purred, her eyes foggy with a desire he knew too well.

He straightened up when Johnny approached, nodding at the blonde and tossing his head towards the pool table. "Rack 'em. I'll be over in a few."

She grinned smugly as she sauntered away, her hips swaying to the music. Johnny grunted as he took his seat beside Jason. "Women like her are trouble, Morgan," he warned, his eyes serious, and Jason wondered if this was about Elizabeth. It seemed like every man held her in such high regard, except him. No one else knew her like he did. "They want it, but they want it too bad."Sure, she wants it, but she wants it too bad."

**********

Elizabeth wasn't sure why she was here. She had no business, really, coming to Jake's in the middle of the night, but once she got the idea in her head, she couldn't stop herself. She felt nervous, anxious even, but mostly scared after Johnny left. It hadn't take long for loneliness to sink in now that she was was _really_ on her own again, and while it was what she wanted, it terrified her.

She shouldn't have taken so much comfort in the fact that a man was lurking outside her door every day and night. And at first, she hated it. Ever since her rape, she hated when people looked at her, gawked and murmured as she passed, their hushed voices nearly drowning her. When Sonny first mentioned a guard, she felt that sense of insecurity, the uneasiness that she came with being watched and stalked, even if it was for her own good.

For a little while, it had been okay after Johnny leftIt had been okay at first. She busied herself with packing more boxes, determined to move by the end of the week. She wavered back and forth between memories of her husband and the ache of what was had yet to come.

And then night set in.

Shadows crept in through her window, and despite her attempts to remain calm, she couldn't. An overwhelming sense of panic washed over her, but she was determined to shove it aside, so she focused on painting. And it almost relaxed her until she heard a loud boom from outside, followed by the sound of breaking glass, and she hit the floor in such a hurry that she honestly thought she was being attacked again. Seconds later, she heard sirens and she assumed it had just been a car accident, and by then she was too wired to sleep or stay still.

So she came here.

Yeah, she Elizabeth could have called Brenda and convinced her to come over and tell lavish stories until her nerves subsided, but she didn't. Really, she had no idea why, but she found herself hurrying out her the door, pepper spray in hand as she started for the bar. Johnny had said she knew where to find him, that he would be there if she needed him, and tonight and maybe for the next few nights, she was going to have to borrow some of that strength he was talking about.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped up to the door with a bronze plated number four nailed into it. She glanced nervously over her shoulder at Room Two even though she knew Jason was downstairs. She'd peeked into the bar after coming in through the back door, not surprised to find him in the arms of that blonde tramp he seemed to frequent ever since moving into the bar after his accident. He was too busy feeling her up against the pool table to notice Elizabeth sweep past the doorway, and she hoped she could sneak in, talk to Johnny, and get back to her studio without him noticing.

She raised her fist to the door, gently knocking gently, and cringeding when she heard more than one voice on the other side. Of course, like Jason, Johnny would have someone to keep his bed warm, and she suddenly had the feeling this was going to be very embarrassing.

A sultry giggle floated out the door as Johnny's head poked out, his lips parting in surprise. "Elizabeth…"

She smiled uncomfortable, dropping her eyes to the floor as she rubbed the back of her neck. "Um, I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to remember the last time she felt this humiliated. "I – I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's okay," he interrupted seriously, disappearing into the room for a single second before slipping out into the hall. He tugged his button-down shirt over his bare chest as he pulled the door closed. "Is something wrong?"

Shrugging, she wrung her hands as she stared at the floor. What was she supposed to say? She heard a loud noise and had to get out of her studio. Or she didn't want to be alone. Or that she just wanted to hang out with him.

Each option sounded more ridiculous than the last.

"I just…" She pulled her lip between her teeth, sucking in her breath when he slid a finger under her chin and tipped her head back. His eyes were warm and tender, filled with the kind of sincerity she'd missed in everyone around her. "I didn't – it's hard to be alone."

Her cheeks flushed at her confession and she turned to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. "It's okay," he said softly, ducking his head to meet her gaze. "I can't imagine how hard everything is for you, and I meant what I said. I'm not going anywhere." He cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder when whoever was in his room called out his name. "Is this about the guard? You can have one. All the time."

"No," she replied, shaking her head as her shoulders slumped. "I don't really know what it's about." Her lips quivered and she ran her hands over her face, telling herself to keep composure. "I just – I get so scared sometimes. And these past couple of weeks…I felt…safe." She cradled her face in her hands, feeling as if she was being pulled apart at the seams. "Johnny, I'm sorry. I was – I thought about calling Brenda, but…"

"It's okay," he murmured, stepping forward and slipping his arms around her shoulders. She didn't even try to fight him as he pulled her against him, instead savoring the moment, the touch even as he held her against him. "It's okay, Elizabeth." He smoothed a hand up and down her back, the touch so tender and relaxing that she could have fallen asleep in his arms. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

She could only nod as she curled against him, burying her face against his chest. It had been so long since she'd had this; the safety of a man's arms, the tender voice, and the familiar scent. She missed it, ached for it even, and wondered how long it would be before she found this again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a minute, but still she didn't pull away. She was going to stand there as long as he let her. "You've got company…"

He chuckled against her temple, continuing to run his hand up and down her back. "Nah," he grunted, tightening his arms. "Company can wait."

**********

"Oh, did I just win?" Carly purred, swaying her hips as she walked around the pool table to Jason, a sexy smirk on her lips. "I think I did."

Jason arched his eyebrow as he took a sip of his whiskey, not caring who won as long as they ended up in his room. If he'd had it his way, they'd already be up there, and but just when he was about to coax her out of the bar, he looked towards the doorway to see Elizabeth hurrying up the stairs. Undoubtedly to visit Johnny, her newfound friend, and he wasn't sure why the idea of the guards hanging being around her unnerved him so damn much.

So, he chose whiskey over sex and did his best to drag out their game, even if it meant distracting her with drinks and coy remarks that he didn't mean.

"I won," she repeated, shoving him playfully against the pool table, and he obliged her by sitting down on the edge. She grinned and stepped between his legs, her hands smoothing her hands up his thighs. "That means you get to take me upstairs."

He grunted, wanting to point out that they were going upstairs regardless, but if she wanted to _think_ she had control, then he'd go along with it. "In a minute," he muttered, looking over her shoulder to the hallway. He wanted to wait long enough for Elizabeth to go into Johnny's room or for her to come back downstairs when she realized O'Brien was busy with someone he'd picked up a little bit ago.

Carly rolled her eyes and tossed her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. "Fine," she sighed, leaning forward to brush her lips against his cheek. "I need to freshen up anyway, so why don't you head on upstairs,upstairs and I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

"Alright," he nodded, pushing himself up from the pool table and gently easing his way around her. His hand lingered against on her hip as he pulled her towards him. "Snag us some drinks from Coleman."

"Of course," she purred, her eyes lighting up as she started towards the bathrooms at the other ends of the bar.

Jason had no idea why she needed to freshen up. She was going straight upstairs to his bed where whatever work she did would surely be ruined, but at least it bought him a little more time. He snatched his glass of whiskey from the edge of the pool table, raising it to the bartender as he disappeared through the doorway, and headed for the stairs. There was only a shot or two left in it, but it would suffice until Carly made it upstairs, so he sipped it carefully, taking the stairs one at a time.

His chest tightened when he neared the landing at the top of the stairs and heard muffled voices, and he knew without a doubt that Elizabeth and Johnny were standing in the hallway instead of in O'Brien'shis room. Apparently O'Brien wasn't going to send away his piece of ass for Elizabeth, which almost brought a smile to Jason's face.

Obviously, the two had conjured up some type of close relationship and if it became romantic – if Elizabeth felt like taking someone to bed – well – He stopped at the top of the stairs, his hands tightening around the glass when he saw Johnny holding Elizabeth in his arms, talking to her softly as she looked up at him, a wistful smile on her face. Her fingers were curled into the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, and if she leaned forward the slightest bit, her lips would have brushed over against the guard's. He Jason closed his eyes, his fingers so tight around the glass he thought it might break, and he turned to head back down to the bar when he heard her Elizabeth call his name.

"Jason!" she repeated, pushing Johnny away from her as she clasped a hand to her mouth. She looked between the guard and her ex-husband, her cheeks flushed and eyes filled with tears, like she'd been caught doing something wrong. Something she would have never done even though she didn't owe a damn thing to Jason. "It's not what – what it looks like. I was just…"

He shrugged, turning around at the top of the stairs and took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes glaring at her over the top of his glass. "I don't care _who_ you're doing," he said roughly, ignoring the way Johnny was shaking his head.

"It's not what it looked like," she repeated, softer this time as she walked over to his door. She sounded afraid as if she'd hurt him in some way, and he wanted to tell her that she hadn't, that she could fuck Johnny or whoever else she wanted, just like he was, but he didn't.

He fumbled in his pockets for his keys. Where had he put the fucking things? Shrugging again, he finally pulled them from the back pocket of his jeanshis back pocket, annoyed that she was still looking at him, her eyes so damn apologetic. He wanted her to stop, to go away, and he lowered his face, determined to make it happen. "You have to find a father for your bastard somewhere."

Jason didn't know why he said it, the words flew off his tongue before he even thought about their impact, and suddenly Elizabeth was rushing forward, her hand colliding with the side of his face. "You – you-" She pointed a shaky finger at him as she sputtered, her eyes glistening with tears, and for a split second, he could have sworn he saw a broken reflection of himself inside them. "God, I – I hate you."

"Good," he grunted, turning his face away as he shoved the door open, knowing if she looked at him, she might see the way he flinched at her words.

"Wait," she cried, but he ignored her and slammed the door behind him, spinning around when he heard a painful scream rip through the hallway. "Fuck." He clenched his fists, rubbing them against his face when the door fell open, knowing immediately he'd closed it on her. Where, he didn't know, but probably her hands.

God dammit, why couldn't she just go away?

"Elizabeth, are you-" Johnny cut him off, his fist colliding with Jason's face as he lunged forward. The hit caught him by surprise and he tumbled to the floor, pulling O'Brien with him, and the men rolled across the floor, fists connecting with chins and sides as they fought.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth screamed, gently holding her hand against her chest as she stood in the doorway, too afraid to try and break the men apart.

"You're a son of a bitch, Morgan," Johnny snarled, slamming Jason's head against the floor as he pinned him to the ground.

Jason groaned, his eyes fluttering closed as a sharp pain ripped through his head, his arms falling limply to his sides.

"Johnny, stop it!" Elizabeth cried, stepping up behind him, hitting him in the shoulder with her elbow as she crouched beside Jason. "Are you okay?" She touched grazed Jason's cheek with the back of her hand, the touch oddly tender, but he couldn't stop himself from flinching. "Jason?"

O'Brien swore under his breath as he let go of Jason and got up from the floor. "Are you crazy?" Elizabeth snapped, glaring at Johnny over her shoulder. Not seeing what he'd done that was so wrong, he just shrugged. "He just had brain surgery a few months ago. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"He hurt you," Johnny argued, pointing at the door. "He slammed your fucking hand-"

"It was an accident," she interrupted, her chest heaving. "He would never hurt me, especially on purpose." He started to argue, but Elizabeth ignored him, turning attention back to Jason, who was slowly pushing himself up from the floor. "Are you okay?"

He blinked as he rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out what had just happened. How he had hurt her, how she had defended him, and why she was kneeling beside him, her bruising hand already forgotten.

_He would never hurt me. _

It was all that Jason had done.

"Are you okay?" she asked again, reaching out to touch his face, but he flinched and hurried to his facefeet.

"You – you should go," he replied, clenching his fists as he looked between her and Johnny. "Both of you."

His eyes drifted to her hand, a faint red streak was slowly turning blue against the back of it, and he worried that he had broken it. God, how had this happened? He pressed his fists against his hands, his stomach churning as he felt any control he had start to slowly fadelowly fade. She was hurting, always hurting because of him, and now he'd made it worse, without even trying.

"Just go," he snarled, causing her to flinch at his tone, and he hated himself a little more. Suddenly he hurt everywhere, his head, his chest, his stomach, like he was being pulled apart a single thread at a time, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up on the floor and waited until there was nothing left of him.

Johnny clenched his jaw, watching Jason carefully as he walked over to Elizabeth, but she just pulled away, shaking her head. "I shouldn't have come here tonight," she said firmly, apologizing to the both of them for her mere presence. "I'm sorry."

She turned and hurried out of the room before either of the men could stop her, and Johnny took a deep breath and pointed at Jason, his eyes as serious as they were earlier that night when they were going after Anthony. "You hurt her one more fucking time, Morgan, and you're done."

Jason just stared at him until he left the room, slamming the door behind him, and slumping up against it, his head in his hands, wanting Johnny to honor his word.


	26. Chapter 26

**[Prompt – I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. – Abraham Lincoln]**

**Chapter 26 **

Jason gripped the sides of the bathroom sink as he glared at his reflection in the cracked mirror, every tiny crack reminding him of each broken sliver that existed inside him. He hung his head, his eyes sweeping over the faint cuts from the last time he'd felt this way, and he refused to fall apart like that again.

"Fuck," he growled, pushing himself away from the sink when he heard a knock on his door.

Part of him was anxious to open it – hoping it was Elizabeth and he could apologize and fix this. Who was he kidding? He'd never be able to fix this, but he hated that he hurt her, that he marked her like other people had. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face as he leaned against the door, praying it wasn't Johnny on the other side. He respected the guard for looking out for Elizabeth. Jason would have probably done the same thing if he'd seen a man hurt a woman, but he hadn't…God, he didn't want to hurt Elizabeth like that. He just wanted her to stay away because if she did, then there was no risk of him hurting her _ever_.

"What?" he barked, pressing his forehead against the door, grimacing when Carly answered on the other side.

Closing his eyes, he straightened up and rolled his head from side to side, telling himself this was what he needed. Carly knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed, and she was willing to give it. If anyone could help him forget about what had happened and , make him feel good long enough that he'd be able to fall asleep, it was her.

He needed this.

Bracing one hand against the wall by the door, he pulled it open. "Hey," he said roughly, holding his hand out for the glass of whiskey she was holding for him.

"Hey yourself," she murmured, arching an eyebrow as she sauntered into the room, kicking the door closed before she reached for him. He sipped his whiskey, smiling into the glass as her hand trailed up his arm and slipped around his neck. "Jason…" A slender finger traced the slant of his jaw as her eyes widened. "What happened? Did you get in a bar in a fight in the ten minutes it took me to get upstairs?"

"It's nothing," he growled, walking over to set his drink on the nightstand by his bed. Groaning, he tugged his t-shirt over his head, surprised by how many punches Johnny had managed to land in such a short amount of time. Shaking his head, he tried to forget how it felt when Elizabeth touched him, when she worried about him, and when she said he would never hurt her.

_He always hurt her. _

"You have such a one track mind," Carly sighed, stepping up beside him and slipping her arms around his waist. She nuzzled her face against his bare back, her lips brushing against his shoulders as her fingernailsshe raked her fingernails across his stomach.

Placing his hands over hers, he shoved them away, holding onto one wrist so he could pull her against him. He slipped his other around her neck, drawing her mouth to his to take what he wanted. Carefully, he nudged her towards the bed, breaking the kiss as he shoved her towards the mattress. Her knees hit the back of it and she tumbled backwards, catching herself on her elbows,elbows and staring up at him with a smug grin. His eyes swept over her, taking in the curve of her jeans and the dip of her blouse.

Yeah, he would have no problem doing this.

"Take your clothes off," he ordered, standing over her as he undid his belt buckle and jerked the leather through the loops. "Now."

"Bossy," she murmured coyly, taking the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head.

She shook her hair out as she skimmed her hands down her hips sides to the snaps of her jeans. He leaned over and helped her tug them off after she started to roll them down, stopping to slip off her shoes for her. Tossing them aside, he smoothed his hands up her legs and jerked her underwear off, and let them fall to the floor.

He stepped back to remove his own pants, nodding his head as he shoved them to the floor. "Your bra," he grunted, kicking his jeans away.

"You always were a man of so few words," she said, rolling her eyes as she undid the clasp and slid the smooth material away from her breasts. "This may be a record though, even for you."

Ignoring her, he loomed over her, bracing his hands on either side of her as he brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. "Turn over."

"Jason…" She tipped her head back so she could look at him, furrowing her brow as she lifted a hand to his face, her fingertip touching the light bruise again. He flinched and jerked her hand away, and she hurried to scoot back on the bed. "What's going on with you tonight?"

"Carly," he warned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I don't want to talk. I don't want to be asked questions. I just want you to-"

"Fuck you," she interrupted, glaring at him. "You ignored me for two weeks, Jason. The least you owe me is a little attention."

"I don't owe you anything," he replied, pushing himself off the bed.

Leaning over, he snatched his jeans from the floor and shrugged them on, knowing he should have never answered the door. Carly wanted an apology, wanted him to beg for forgiveness, and swear he'd never push her away again. If she thought she was getting any of that, she was fucking crazy. She was lucky that he'd actually given her a second glance; that he wanted to bring her upstairs and fuck her.

"Get out," he barked, throwing her clothes at her as he picked them up from the floor.

"Of course," she muttered, easing herself towards the end of the bed. She slid her panties up her legs and hurried with her jeans, glaring at him from the corner of her eye. "You're not getting what you want, so fuck everyone else, right?"

Clearly, there was going to be no fucking, but he wasn't going to say that. She didn't need a reason to argue with him.

"You're such a fucking baby," she said, not bothering with her bra. She shook out her shirt and pulled as she reached for her shirtit out over her head. "The minute someone says something you don't like or they don't do exactly what you want, you throw a fucking tantrum." She shook out her hair and raked her fingers through it. "At first, it was cute. Attractive, even, in that fucked up way, but now it's just pathetic. It's only going to get you so far, and obviously, you're as far as you're going to get."

He shrugged, not giving a damn about what she was saying.

"And I know what this is really about," she continued, fumbling with her shoes. "I saw Elizabeth downstairs at the bar. She was asking Coleman to call her a cab." Jason clenched his fists and looked away. "Did the little ex-wifey pay you a visit? Did she ask you to be a father? Ask you to be a _real_ man?"

"Get out," he hissed, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes. He hated when she said Elizabeth's name. It sounded so disgusting and dirty. "Get the fuck out."

"Too bad Jason Morgan will never be a real man," she added smugly, hands on her hips as she stared at him, waiting until he opened his eyes before she finished. "The only time you're a real man is when you're in bed. The rest of the time you're just _worthless_."

And there it was again; that slow churning in his stomach, so deep he couldn't make it go away if he tried.

"_Worthless_, _son of a bitch_," she hissed, barely flinching when he swore under his breathk, snatching the lamp from the nightstand and flinging it past her at the wall. "Does that make you feel better, Jason?"

"Coming from you," he grunted, barking laughter in his face. "The town whore?"

"Better than being the town freak show," she muttered, sauntering over to the door. "You know what everyone says about you. That you're never going to be anything more than a thug on a fourth grade level. That you're stupid and stilted and so fucking _worthless_-"

"Get the fuck out," he cried, snatching his glass of whiskey from the nightstand and flinging it at the door. The glass busted against the door as she slipped into the hallway, leaving her smug cackles behind her.

His chest heaved as he glared at the door, and he slowly slumped down on the bed, his head in his hands, needing something he couldn't quite touch.

**********

Elizabeth closed her eyes as she leaned back on the couch, her bruised hand resting on her belly, and her cell phone clutched tightly in her other hand. Johnny had called her five times since she left the bar, even left voicemails. Each one asked the same things: was she okay, did she need to go to the hospital, should he come over, and while he meant well, she just wanted him to stop.

Hanging her head, she smoothed her hand over her stomach, telling herself she wasn't going to cry anymore. Eventually she had to run dry, so why couldn't that be now? She closed her bruised hand in a fist, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through it. It wasn't broken – at least she didn't think it was, and she couldn't have it checked. A doctor would ask what had happened, and then she would start to cry, knowing she wouldn't be able to lie, and everyone would jump to some stupid conclusion that Jason had hurt her on purpose.

And he may have; with his words and actions, but he didn't realize what he was doing. Everything he said was a reaction, an angry response to what he couldn't understand, and she couldn't blame him for that. She couldn't walk away or hate him if she tried, and she definitely couldn't let go, not when she was so sure that he _needed_ her. She understood that he wasn't going to be with her and that he didn't want her, but he needed someone to believe in him.

"I don't hate him," she whispered roughly, smoothing a slender finger across her stomach. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he believed it. I've said it enough." She shifted, drawing her legs beneath her as she settled back against the couch. "And he doesn't…you are _not_ a bas-bastard. You have a father who wanted you and loved you before you were even here."

She muffled a sob in the crook of her arm as she slumped over, curling on her side as she cried, even though she told herself she wasn't going to. Her body ached; with sorrow, with heartache, and mostly with defeat. How could she love someone so hard and get nothing in return?

It wasn't fair – for both of them, really. She was haunted by Jason's past, terrified for his future, and he couldn't get away from either.

She wanted to; sometimes she told herself it would be easy to leave Port Charles, to fall in love with someone else, to just move on, but she couldn't. Even tonight when she was standing in Johnny's arms, wrapped in something so familiar yet so very foreign, she thought about how easy it would be to let herself go. She could have…she could have kissed him, had even thought about it, all because she missed the safety and comfort of having a man.

And then she'd seen Jason.

Her heart became so tight at just the thought of being with another man. It was like breaking every vow and promise she ever made to her husband, and regardless of the fact that they were no longer married, she was in her heart. And until she let go in that deep place, she wouldn't be able to move on.

Who was she kidding? Even when it hurt so badly that she couldn't breathe, that she ended up curled up on her couch in defeat, she didn't want to let go.

She loved him too fucking much and she hated herself for it.

"None of this is fair to you," she murmured, clutching her stomach, and wondering if this would count as failing as a mother. She groaned, her eyes fluttering closed when there was a knock on the door, and she blinked back tears as she pushed herself up from the couch. She knew it was Johnny, and she was going to hit him as hard as he had Jason, and then slam the door in his face. "One second."

Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes, hating that he'd see her all puffy-eyed and crying, and finally flicked the lock before openand opened the door. She gasped, her mouth opening to speak, but no words came out when she looked sawat Jason standing in her hallway. His shoulders were pulled tightly around him, his head hung, and the strain that he felt inside was visible on his face and in his stance.

"Jason…" He shuffled awkwardly on his feet, his eyes slowly lifting to hers, no longer masking the ache he felt inside. When he'd asked her and Johnny to leave his room, when he was yelling withfists clenched fists, she knew that something was wrong, and now…

Clearing his throat, he held up a small bag of ice, his gaze falling to her bruised hand. "I…I didn't…" He sucked in a breath, his fist tightening around the bag as he ducked his head, not wanting to look her in the face. It was as if he couldn't even if he tried. "I didn't know…I didn't know where else to go."

**********

"It's okay," she said softly, flicking the light switch by the door. She held out her hand, confusing him at first, but he realized she wanted the ice, not his touch. "Come in."

He hesitated, but told himself it was okay, to want to make sure that she was alright. After all, he'd spent the last hour driving around this godforsaken town looking for a bag of ice. She smiled softly as she reached around him to close the door and turn the lock,lock; something he assumed had to be habit after what had happened.

Sighing quietly, she walked over to the counter and set down the bag of her faceice, her lips quivering as she ran a slender finger down the side of the bag. Her cheeks were red and flushed, eyes swollen and sad, and it was his fault.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, wanting her to lie, to flex her fist open and closed and say it was just fine. She shrugged, fumbling to tear open the end of the bag, a hiss escaping from the corner of her mouth. "Here, let me." She stepped aside, one hand braced against the counter, and when he moved beside her, he realized it was trembling. "If you want me to go-"

"No," she interrupted firmly, tilting her head towards him. She didn't say anything else, just left it as an desperate order, and for once, he didn't feel the need to run away.

"Uh…do you have a…towel?" he asked, looking around for something to put the ice in.

She nodded, crossing the room, and that was when he noticed all the boxes. Johnny had mentioned she was moving. Clearing her throat, she pulled a towel from a box and walked back over. It was stained with paint, smelled a little, but he figured it was all she had.

Shaking it out, he laid it on the counter and scooped a couple handfuls of ice from the bag before folding it over. He did his best to knot the ends of the towel to keep the ice from falling out. "Uh…" He turned towards her and held out his hand, cringing when she placed her smaller, bruised one in his palm. It The bruise was a deep blue, some parts purple, an ugly blemish against her smooth, ivory skin.

"It's okay," she said, stroking his hand with her thumb. "It was an accident." He didn't reply, just reached for the ice and carefully laid it against her swollen hand, praying that it wasn't broken or sprained. A bruise would go away with time, but it wouldn't be forgotten. "You didn't mean to, Jason. It's really okay. You would never hurt me."

"Don't say that," he replied, gritting his teeth, and watching her face as he pressed the ice against her hand. It hurt more than she would ever admit. "All I do is hurt you." She ducked her head, causing her chestnut curls to fall into her face, and hide her tears from his gaze. "Everything I say and do hurts you. And you still…you still love me…don't you?"

He sounded pathetic, desperate even, like he needed to know that she loved him, but mostly, he wanted to understand _why_.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I know you don't want to hear that, but I do…I can't stop."

"Why?" he asked thickly, closing his eyes when her fingers closed around his hand. They were so tender, the softest touch he'd ever felt. "I don't _love_ you. I don't _want_ you. I don't – I don't even _like_ you. How can – how can you love me?"

She shrugged, her chest rising and falling faster than it was moments ago, and he worried that he was upsetting. For once, he wanted to avoid that if he could.

"I don't understand it," he hissed, his other hand clenched at his side. "I – I hate this. You. This…child. How can you love me, Elizabeth?"

He pulled away from her touch, the bag of ice slipping to the floor, but it was forgotten before the towel even fell open. "Jason," she reached out to grab him, her bruised hand, curling around his arm as she tried to keep him from pulling away. The only reason he stopped was because he knew if he moved, he'd hurt her again.

"You don't even know me," he added, shaking his head as he looked down at the floor. He hated this, to be standing here like the _worthless, son of a bitch_ he was and for her to pity him. Why else would she have let him in the studio after everything?

"I know you," she said seriously, lifting a hand to his face. He fought the urge to pull away and let himself lean into her hand. "I was there when you woke up. And I saw the person you were after. I was _there_."

"I'm not that person," he replied, bracing his hands against the counter as he slumped forward, continuing to press his cheek into her hand. He needed her touch, needed to feel something good right now. It might be the only thing to hold him together. "I'm not good."

"Yes, you are," she insisted, staring up at him with more sincerity than he'd ever felt from anyone else. "All of this is just anger. It's a reflection of how you feel, Jason. It isn't _who_ you are."

"How do you know who I am?" he asked exhaustedly, tightening his grip on the edge of the counter. "I don't even know who I am. How do you-"

"Because I know you're your heart," she interrupted gently, placing her other hand on his arm. "I know who you can be when you're at your best. And I know you who you can be when you're at your worst. I've seen both sides of you, Jason. You don't have to be one or the other."

She made it sound so simple and pure, like he could choose for things to be easy, but he didn't even know what easy was.

He didn't know a fucking thing.

"Elizabeth…" Her name came raggedly from his lips and he hung his head, taking in the feel of her hands as they stroked his face and arms, hating that he found comfort in her of all people.

Why didn't she just tell him to go away?

"Just...just tell me what you feel, Jason," she said, leaning against him, her chin resting on his shoulder. "Tell me anything. Why you're here. Why you hurt. Just talk to me, _please_."

"I can't," he replied, his voice strained. What he had to say would hurt her, would make her cry, wouldand would be worse than slamming the door on her hand. "I can't hurt you anymore."

"It hurts more when you _don't_ talk to me," she murmured, smoothing her hand up and down his arm. "Just talk to me. You can tell me anything. You know that. Why else did you come here?"

He started to pull away, but she tightened her hand on his arm, and he relented. He couldn't walk away from her if he wanted to right now. "I hurt you," he reminded her, tipping his head towards her, his eyes lingering on hers. "All I've done is hurt you. And what I feel, why I came here – it'll hurt you too."

"I'm strong enough to take it," she said, blinking back tears. "Is this about – about Johnny? What you say – it wasn't-"

"I know," he cut in gruffly, hesitantly lifting his hand to her face. He wanted to touch her – just once – to remember how her skin felt against his. "I don't like feeling. It's…it's too much."

"Anger is easier," she agreed, her lashes fluttering as he cupped her cheek.

He nodded, her skin like silk against his palm. "I – I feel so much when I'm around you. And I _hate_ it." It was the most honest thing he'd ever said, and he noticed how her lips tightened and, her eyes stayed closed a second longer than they should have. "I can't stand it. Before – at first, it felt good to be near you, but now…I can't be him, Elizabeth."

Her eyes flashed open, both of her hands cradling his face and forcing him to look her in the eye. "I don't want you to be him." She swallowed hard and bit her lip. "You _aren't_ him."

"Then how can you want me?" he asked pathetically, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He didn't even have the energy to be angry. "I hate this. Every time I get close to you I start to fall apart."

"Maybe," she shrugged, still holding his face, "what you need is to fall apart. And maybe why you came here is because you know you can fall apart with me."

He clenched his jaw, not wanting to need anyone, but every touch, every word she said pulled him apart a little bit more. And when she finally stepped forward and slipped her arms around his neck, he couldn't stop himself from falling into her. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in as he snaked his arms around her waist, desperate to hold onto her, even if just for tonight.

"It's okay," she whispered, smoothing a hand over his shoulder as she raked the other through the ends of his hair. She nuzzled the side of his face, her breath hitching as her lips brushed over his temple. "Just tell me what I can do. Tell me what you need."

He didn't know either of those. What he wanted was to be anywhere else, to be someone else, and what he needed, well, he didn't want it to be this.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, swallowing hard as he lifted his head to look at her, seeing that familiar broken self in the reflection of her eyes.

Her hands skimmed up his neck to cup his cheeks, her thumbs tracing intricate circles on his face as she drew her mouth to his. The very moment their lips touched, he knew this was what they both wanted, a familiar comfort and ease they couldn't find with anyone else. It may have been exactly what he was searching for since that day in the penthouse.

He groaned against her mouth as her lips parted, her tongue snaking out to meet his, desperate to taste him. She was as sweet as he remembered, as gentle and warm, a welcoming safety that he had needed more than ever tonight. Her hands fell to his neck and then his shoulders, fingers grasping at the material of his shirt as if afraid that he'd pull away if she didn't hold on tight enough.

"Jason," she rasped, her head falling to her shoulder as she fought to catch her breath, moaning as his tongue traced a blazing trail around the shell of her ear. His teeth nipped at the lobe before his mouth moved lower…and lower…and lower, settling on her rapid pulse point.

God, she tasted so good. Unlike anything he'd ever had before, and he wanted her, needed her, and he didn't care if it meant letting her see him lose control. He wanted her to lose as much control with him.

Carefully, he shuffled them across the floor towards the ratty couch, Elizabeth's mouth seeking his, her lips begging to be kissed as they collapsed against the cushions, Jason careful to hold his weight above her small frame. He reminded himself to be gentle, to take less and give more, and to make sure that she was comfortable. He was so afraid of hurting her.

It was like nothing existed except the movement of their mouths and the desperation of their hands as they stroked and groped, anxious to take what was they had once, what they had been craving ever since. Regretfully, he pulled his mouth from hers, his tongue trailing her neck again as one of his hands tugged at the scoop neckline of her blouse. He groaned at the sight of the creamy mounds, bigger than he remembered them, and he couldn't stop himself from nuzzling his way between them, his tongue snaking out to get even the smallest taste of her skin.

She breathed his name again, her hands grasping at his shirt, one slipping below it, the other pulling the material upward, barely able to focus on anything except what he was doing to her. He liked her reactions, like how she rasped his name, begged him not to stop, and how she needed him and wanted him as much as he did her.

It didn't matter if they were being pathetic and falling into something they shouldn't because they were doing it together.

"Oh, god," she moaned, throwing her head back as he cupped her breast, thumbing her hardened nipple through the material of her shirt. Her hips bucked as his hands skimmed down her sides, slipping beneath her shirt, and Jason let out a strained groan as they moved over her stomach, suddenly remembering what exactly was nestled between them. He froze, his hands flat against her belly as his heart raced. There was no way he could do this, not now, not when she was…_no_.

"Jason," she whispered, her lip quivering as he looked at her. Her face crumpled and her trembling hands settled over his. "Jason, it's okay."

She whimpered when he felt his hands curl against his sides, his body slowly pulling away as if repulsed by what lay between them, but he wasn't. He didn't know what he was, but he just knew that her child, he couldn't… "It's okay. It's okay," she repeated, twistinged her face into the cushions as if to hide her heartbreak.

"I can't," he said raggedly, pushing himself up, embarrassed at how used she looked laying before him. Her lips plump and swollen, faint hints of his mouth on her neck and tops of her breasts, and he didn't want it to be like this. His hand lingered on her stomach, his eyes raisinglifting to hers. "I called it...what I said…it's not a…"

"I know," she nodded, sitting up and drawing her knees towards her chest as if to hide the bump.

God, how had he forgotten? A fucking baby. She was having a baby that he had called the worst of things.

_A bastard. _

No, he was the bastard.

"I'm – I'm sorry," he growled, rubbing his clenched fists together as he backed away from her. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, and she tried to wipe them away before he saw them, but it was too late. He'd hurt her again. He always hurt her. "You and this baby – I can't."

"I know," she said, looking away from him, staring at something across the room, _anything_ but him.

"I can't," he repeated, backing towards the door, his stomach churning again. It hurt so bad sometimes he couldn't breathe or think, and he stupidly thought she could help him, that she could make it stop, and she had, but it would never last long enough. "You're both – you're better with out me, Elizabeth. You and your baby. You don't need me. Even if you want me, you don't need me."


	27. Chapter 27

**[Prompt – ****If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was****. – Unknown]**

**Chapter 27 **

Elizabeth used to find the penthouse comforting, welcoming even, and she hated how a place that was once the only real home she ever knew, now terrified her. She hadn't wanted to come here, to have the same fight again, but last night things had changed, and she needed to make sure that Jason was alright.

When he'd first woken up after the accident, he was so careful about displaying his feelings, and last night it was like he'd let himself feel for the first time. Now she worried that maybe he was feeling _too_ much, that he'd been holding himself so tightly closed that he finally burst, and with how he was acting he just might do something reckless.

She knew what it felt like; to feel nothing and then to feel _everything_.

After her rape, she'd done a lot of things she would have never done otherwise. She tested limits and tried to push everyone away, but Jason had been so patient with her. He'd held her together when she couldn't do it on her own and he stopped her when she tried to push herself too far. And that was the only reason she was so determined to save Jason.

Sure, someone could only be saved if they wanted to be, and he was at least realizing he needed to be, which was a step in the right direction.

She closed her trembling hand in a tight fist and lifted it to the door, worried that he wouldn't want to see her, or worse, that he'd be so damn cruel after finally letting his guard downnow. The night before there was a split second where she thought they might be okay, that he knew he could lean on her, and they'd fallen into one another in a way that was so familiar, and then he'd _touched_ her.

This child was obviously the point of so many reservations and fears for him – not that she could blame him. He didn't have a clue as to who he was or who he wanted to be, so how was he supposed to fit being a father into all of that?

If only he could see that she was in the same exact place.

With a deep breath, she brushed her knuckles against the door several times, sucking in a breath when she heard the lock turn on the other side. His cerulean eyes were dark, angry even, his lips pulled in a taut frown. "What are you doing here?"

"I – I thought we should talk," she stammered, folding her hands over her chest, and then dropping her arms to her sides. She didn't want to remind him of the baby, and it wasn't that she was trying to hide it – could she even do such a thing? – she just wanted him to talk to her. "Please."

She sounded pathetic and desperate, but something must have worked because he stepped aside. "Can we do this quickly?" he asked agitatedly, stuffing his hands into the jeans of his pocket as he looked over his shoulder.

"Yeah," she nodded, swallowing hard as she stepped into the penthouse. Being there was like some strange, outer body experience, a dream even because nothing was the same or even resembled her old life. The furniture had been broken and torn, shells of the life she used to have. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine," he grunted, raking a hand through his messy hair. It was obvious from the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn't slept. "Are you…"

"I'm okay," she said timidly, forcing a nervous smile.

His eyes hardened even more as they lowered to hers. "Then why are you here?" He arched his eyebrows as he waited on her answer, but she didn't really have one. She had no idea why she was there, only that when she woke up that morning she knew she _had_ to come see him. "Last night…I don't want to hurt you, Elizabeth, so _stay away_."

"You're not hurting me," she replied softly, stepping towards him and stopping when he backed away. "I meant what I said, Jason. It hurts more when you push me away. I want you to come to me."

"I don't _want_ to come to you," he said roughly, his chest rising and falling steadily as his breath breath quickeninged.

"But you did," she reminded him, nibbling her lip. "And you can come to me anytime, Jason. I want to help-"

"Just stop," he growled, turning away from her in a hurry. He stalked across the room, slowing down to pace back and forth. "Just _stop_."

"I'm worried about you," she said, ignoring his plea and walking over to him. "I'm afraid you're hurting so much…you're feeling so much...I don't want you to hurt yourself."

He was quiet, his head tipping towards her as he looked at her, his eyes still so dark. "You signed the divorce papers." She just looked at him, confused as to what he meant, and far too scared to ask. "You said – you said if I promised not to hurt myself, you would sign." He shrugged, leaning against the back of the couch. "You signed, and even if I don't like any of this, I _have_ to keep my word."

Her lips twitched at the corners, unable to hide her smile. "Thank you."

He flinched at her gratitude and she wondered if it was because he'd never experienced it before. "Just promise that you'll leave me alone – that you'll stay away." She started to protest, but he shook his head firmly, his tone harshening. "You owe your child that much. To put _it_ first. To take care of yourself. To stop worrying about-"

"I'm taking care of my this child quite fine," she interrupted hastily, protectively cradling her belly with her hands. "Don't you dare accuse me of anything different."

"You could have fooled me," he hissed, glaring at her.

"You don't know enough about me to say something like that," she replied, refusing to let him get to her. He wanted to hurt her, to make her feel like she'd done something wrong, to make her leave and never look back.

"I know plenty," he growled, pushing himself away from the couch at the sound of footsteps on his stairs.

"Jason, I put the…" The blonde's voice trailed off as she reached the foot of the stairs, her eyes narrowing at the ex-wife.

Elizabeth let out a shaky breath as she caught the women's eye, telling herself that this woman didn't matter. She was a filler for something Jason couldn't touch, and he could sleep with every woman in town, but they wouldn't get under his skin like she did. They weren't her, even Jason knew that.

"I'm sorry for interrupting," Elizabeth murmured, shifting her eyes back to Jason, unable to read the look in his eyes.

"Yeah, you should go," he muttered, brushing past her as he started for the door. He stopped long enough to look at the woman and Elizabeth found herself wondering if it was apologetic for having his ex-wife interrupt their morning delight.

She followed him to the door, ignoring the blonde's menacing glare, and stopped long enough to look him in the eye, her heart sinking in her chest. "You came to me, Jason," she pointed out softly, though she was half-tempted to make sure the other woman heard. "You came to me because you needed a place to go. You needed me. And all the pushing and shoving…the cruelest comments…nothing will change that you _need_ me."

"Get out," he snarled, his fist tightening around the doorknob.

"I'm going," she said, nodding as she inched her way towards the hall. "I'll stay away, but if – if you need a place to go, if you need me, I will _never_ turn you away."

**********

Sonny swirled his whiskey around in his hand glass as he looked across his desk at the men who had completed the job of a lifetime. "No one suspects a thing," he murmured smugly, taking a sip of the dark liquid. "Johnny came to talk business this morning." He grinned as he leaned forward to set his glass on a coaster. "Looks like I'll have my fair run of the Zacchara empireEmpire now. He's willing to work with me – maybe even for me. I don't really think he wants the business, but if he learns to run it differently from how his father did, he might."

Sighing, he pushed himself up from the desk and nodded proudly at his men. "You two work well together," he added, his eyes lingering on the faint bruise on Jason's face. "And now that business is finished, one of you want to tell me what happened?"

O'Brien shrugged, leaning back in his chair, and Jason stiffened as Sonny's eyes lingered on him. "He punched me," Jason answered after a minute, figuring that their boss probably already knew what happened anyway.

"Fuck," O'Brien grunted, shaking his head as he got up, preparing to defend himself.

"But I deserved it," he added, shrugging at the guard. He wasn't going to blame O'Brien for punching him, for threatening his life, but he would blame him if he didn't hold tokeep his word. "Everything's fine now."

Sonny arched an eyebrow at O'Brien who simply nodded in agreement. "Alright then, you're both dismissed."

O'Brien hurried from the room, muttering under his breath, and Jason knew he was angry that he'd been put on the spot with their boss, but the way he saw ity, O'Brien really hadn't really done anything wrong. Jason hurt Elizabeth like always, and he O'Brien was determined to keep that from happening, and the way Jason saw it, she might need someone looking out for himshe probably needed someone looking out for her.

He got up from the chair just as Sonny was closing the door to his living room. "So…you want to tell me what happened?" he asked carefully, not wanting to press Jason, who wondered why people didn't just demand things more often.

It was amazing how easily cruel words could put fear into people.

"Not really," he shrugged, turning away from his boss. Sonny wouldn't make him talk about anything, but he would listen. "It was…Elizabeth."

Everything lately was coming back to her.

All day he'd been reeling about the fact that he'd gone to see her, that he'd taken her in his arms, and that he had wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone else. And despite how easily he could have had her, could taste the sweet satisfaction and pleasure of being with her, he wouldn't let himself do it.

He just _couldn't_.

"I hurt her," he continued, ducking his head as he approached the doors to the terrace, prepared to leave without a moment's notice. "Johnny was there. It was an accident this time. I wasn't trying to, but I did. I always do."

"Does she know it was an accident?" he asked, prying carefully like he always did. Jason nodded. "Then that's all that matters."

"I still hurt her," he pointed out, hanging his head in embarrassment.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the night before; how good it felt to be close to her and how it was nothing more than a stark reminder that he couldn't have her.

When he left her studio, he'd been so angry, so fucking pissed off. He ended up back at the bar, had a couplesome more drinks, and before he knew it, he was trashing his room again, tearing everything apart that he could with his bare hands. Coleman must have heard downstairs because he'd burst into the room, telling Jason he had to leave, that he couldn't live in the bar any longer. Jason attempted to lay a punch on the bartender, but he was drunk, and Coleman was faster, and he'd ended up on the floor for the second time that night.

Coleman felt enough pity for the man in his pathetic stupor and called for a ride, and Jason had thought it was going to be a cab, but it ended up being Carly. He should have known that's who he would have called, and at first, Jason thought it was a good idea, that he could use a good lay, but the second Carly helped him into the penthouse, he knew it was a bad idea.

It didn't feel right to have her there; where so few people had been, where Elizabeth had been, and he couldn't even figure out why that upset him. Part of him knew if Elizabeth found out he was bringing women home, taking them where she had once been, it would hurt her. It was different to sleep with women in some dirty room above a bar, but the bed…he probably should have just fucked Carly and gotten it over with.

Except he couldn't.

He faked passing out in the chair in the living room, and much to his relief, Carly curled up on the couch and went to sleep. That morning, she'd tried to get him to sleep with her, but he faked a hangover, and eventually she got the hint. She apologized for the things he said, and he accepted, only because he didn't really care about anything she'd saidany of it.

Before Elizabeth had shown up, she' Carlyd asked to take a shower, and he was so relieved that he'd said yes. Otherwise, they she and Elizabeth could have run into one another on the elevator or in the parking garage, and she his ex-wife would have been hurt.

Not that seeing him had done her any good. He may have thought about her all night, remembering how scared and fragile she looked as he pulled himself out of her arms and left, but he didn't want to see her. He didn't want to be that close to her again, and that was one way of hurting her he would learn to live with.

It really was best.

"I don't – don't want to hurt her," he murmured awkwardly, knowing how pathetic that must have sounded to his boss. "But I do anyway."

Nodding understandingly, Sonny stepped up beside him, his hands tucked into his pockets. "Sometimes it's easier to hurt someone who loves you," he said slowly.

"Why?" Jason asked, not wanting to admit that was why he hurt her. Though really, he didn't know, but maybe Sonny did.

"If you hurt someone who loves you, they're not going to stop loving you," he answered seriously, tipping his head towards Jason. "You know by now that you can say anything to her. That you can hurt her with words and actions, but she's not going to love you any less."

**********

"You're quiet today," Brenda said, smoothing a piece of tape across the top of a box as she looked over at Elizabeth. The brunette shrugged, continuing to drop things into a box without so much as a word. "More so than usual." Setting the box onto the coffee table, Elizabeth sighed, but still didn't comment, and that was when Brenda knew something was up. "Okay…"

It had been strange enough when Elizabeth had called her a couple hours ago and asked her to meet her at her studio to finish packing. The request wasn't unusual, but there was something so terribly vulnerable about Elizabeth's voice that she knew something had happened. When she got to the studio, Elizabeth let her in and set her to work without so much as a few words, and Brenda knew something was very wrong.

Elizabeth was the type to deal with whatever bothered her all on her own, but when she reached out, when she needed someone, Brenda was _very_ worried. Usually, Elizabeth would freak out, rambling on and on without as much as a single breath, but today she'd been quiet. Maybe it was Brenda's fault for being so forceful that night at the diner, or for not understanding any of her decisions, and especially for being such a brat about her feelings towards Jason.

"Look, I'm sorry," Brenda said, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder as she turned towards Elizabeth, abandoning the untapped boxes. Elizabeth stiffened, slowly straightening as she looked at her friend. "I know that I've been pushy and impatient…bitchy even these past few months. And things have been really hard for you, for all of us, but most of all you." She shrugged, raising her eyes towards the ceiling as they started to fill with tears. "I hate how everything has turned out for you. And I just want you and this baby to have the best life, but what you want is what's best."

"Brenda," Elizabeth sighed, walking over to her and pulling her into a hug. "I'm not mad at you."

"You should be," she said, even though she was relieved that Elizabeth wasn't.

"No," she replied firmly, pulling back to look at her. "We're all hurting and we all get to deal with that however we see fit and if you want to be pushy and bitchy-"

"Hey!" Brenda laughed, missing how they used to always tease one another.

"You said it first," Elizabeth reminded her, pulling her over to the couch and plopping down. Her smile quickly faded as she rested her head against the back of the couch. "I'm just a mess."

"Aw, honey, it's okay," she said, sitting down beside her and finally noticing how worn out her friend worklooked.

Of course, Elizabeth had looked this way for months, but this was worse. She was wearing down, wearing thin, and wearing out.

"I just…" Elizabeth sighed, turning her body towards Brenda as he tucked her legs beneath her. "I can tell you anything, right?"

"Yes," Brenda said seriously, hoping she hadn't pushed her friend _that_ far away.

She nodded, tucking her curls behind her ears as her eyes fell to her lap. "Jason – he came to see me." She nibbled her lip, taking her time as she explained all that had happened the night before. "…And then he – he touched my stomach, and it was like he just closed shut down."

"But he came," she pointed out, her own chest tightening at the thought of Jason seeking Elizabeth out, at him needing her.

It had been so hard after the accident for Brenda to see her former best friend, the man who had been so in love with Elizabeth suddenly hate her. She and Elizabeth had spent so much time talking about the possibility that Jason would remember her, that her love would be strong enough to pull him through, and that his love was strong to make it.

And then he'd woken up.

"He's so…scared," Elizabeth said, propping her arm on the back of the couch and resting head against her hand. "I went to see him today, mostly because I was afraid he was going to hurt himself. God, you should have seen him, Bren. It was like he hated himself's like he hates himself. He kept saying that he hurt me and that he couldn't understand how I still loved him."

Her hand dropped to her belly and she smoothed her palm over it, trying to soothe herself as well as her child. "I don't know what to do anymore," she shrugged, lifting her eyes to Brenda's. "He needs help. He's so angry, but the anger is wearing out, and now he's just hurting so much." Her lip quivered as she looked at her friend, her eyes full of loss, but mixed with hope. "What do I do? What would – what would you do? If this was Jax?"

Brenda's eyes widened as she shifted nervously against the cushions. She couldn't admit that she'd had this conversation with her husband so many times in the last few months, especially when Jason had first woken up. They tried to put themselves in Elizabeth's shoes, and Brenda found herself terrified at the thought of losing Jax, but when something like this happened, how could she _not_ think about it?

Jax had confessed that he would want Brenda to believe in him, to hang onto every last ounce of hope she had, because he couldn't imagine ever giving up when he had her to come back to. And if science chose to get in the way, the those dreaded neurological injuries, then Jax had told her she could fight for as long as she wanted, but what he would really want was for her to let go. Her life shouldn't be stilted because his was.

"Sorry," Elizabeth murmured, her cheeks flushing. "That's an awful question to ask."

"No, it's not," Brenda replied, forcing a smile. "I was just thinking." Taking a deep breath, she reached over to squeeze Elizabeth's hand. "If this was Jax, I would want to fight. I would want to hang onto my husband. I think he would want that, just like I think Jason would be so proud of you for everything you've done, but…"

"The dreaded but," she chimed in, smiling weakly.

"But," she repeated, squeezing her hand again. "You also have to think about what else Jason would want." Elizabeth just looked at her. "I can't speak for Jason, but I know my husband. He would never want me to hurt myself to try and save him. Instead, I think he'd want me to let go, to believe in him and that he'd be okay, but to let go. And just maybe, if our love was as strong as I believe it is, he'd come back."

"And if he didn't?" Elizabeth asked, the weight of the question apparent in the sag of her shoulders.

Brenda grinned, knowing her answer wasn't going to help her friend, but it was the truth. "He would," she replied, her eyes filling with tears. "I have all the belief in the world that he would…but I wouldn't sit around and wait on him."


	28. Chapter 28

**[Prompt – Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is war, and love is growing up. – James A. Baldwin]**

**Chapter 28**

"Jason, I wasn't expecting you," Lila exclaimed, looking up from the photo albumnewspaper nestled in her lap.

Her grandson smiled softly as he stepped onto the terrace, a small Styrofoam container in his hand. "I promised you french fries."

"Yes, I remember," she said, closing folding the album paper upas she arched an eyebrow at him. "It's important that one keeps his word."

"It is," he agreed, holding the container out to her.

"Edward has always been against most deep-fried foods," she murmured, setting the box on her lap and motioning for Jason to sit.

It had been weeks since she'd heard from her grandson, so surely the food could wait. He kneeled down in front of her like always, willingly subjecting himself to her careful eye, and since the boy never seemed capable of seeing a real doctor, she had to do her best.

Forcing a smile, she lifted a hand to his cheek, smoothing her thumb over the faint bruise, and murmured an apology when he flinched. She was used to him coming to her with cuts and bruises, especially after the accident, but she worried about just how rough this bar was he was living in and what kinds of fights he was getting into. .

Not to mention that he always looked so tired, his face strained and dark as if thinking of the most dreadful things, and she imagined a good night's rest might do him wonders. Though she supposed such a thing was nearly impossible for the young man. His mind probably never stopped working; always contemplating, always loathing, always wondering what could be.

"I assume you're alright," she said quietly, tenderly stroking his cheek.

"You don't have to worry about me," he replied, pulling his hand away from his face.

"Someone has to worry about you," she pointed out, turning her attention to the container of food. She knew better than to pressure Jason. Besides, if she talked enough, he usually talked back, and in a roundabout way, she always found out what she wanted to know. She poked at the greasy pile of potatoes with her fingertip, debating on whether or not she needed silverware. "It's been so long since I've seen you."

"Work has been busy," he shrugged apologetically, his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

"Of course," she nodded, fumbling withclosing the container as she looked at him carefully. "Would it be safe to say you know how Elizabeth is doing?"

The corner of his mouth twitched and he pushed himself to his feet, turning his back to her as he walked over to the iron railing that wrapped around the terrace. "She's strong."

Lila couldn't help but smile, sure that this was the first time her grandson had actually had something kind to say about his ex-wife. "Yes," she agreed, carefully steering her wheelchair over to him. "Not that it came easy to her, but I suppose a woman isshe's bound to have a thick skin with considering all that she's been through."

His hands tightened around the railing as he ducked his head. "Yeah."

At least he appeared to know something about what she was referring to, but he couldn't know everythingthe full extent. "Have you seen her?" He grumbled under his breath, so she quickly backtracked. "I just haven't seen her in weeks, Jason. I don't have a phone number or any way to get in touch with her, and it's difficult for me to go into town without Edward breathing down my neck." She reached out and touched his arm, relieved when his head turned towards her. "Forgive me. You don't want to talk about-"

"She's doing okay," he interrupted, swallowing hard as he looked away. "The attack – it scared her, but…like you said, she's strong."

"I can't stop myself from worrying," she admitted, feeling guilty that she was saying this to Jason of all people. "She's used to being alone, but this – I worry about her and her child..."

"They're fine," he said, sighing heavily at his harsh tone. "I – I _know_ that the both of them are fine." Hanging his head, he banged one closed fist against the railing, the other still tightly wrapped around it. "Sometimes…I worry too."

"About Elizabeth?" she asked, confused by his admission, and he shrugged, shaking his head firmly. She realized she had embarrassed him by outright asking about his admissionhim. "You said they're fine."

"They are," he muttered, shifting awkwardly on his feet, still not looking at her. "That doesn't stop me from worrying."

He sounded so boyish, so absolutely lost with his quiet voice and nervous stance. It reminded her of when he was little, with messy blonde hair and bright blue eyes that always told the truth. So many times when he 'd didone something wrong – b, broke a rule or picked on his brother, and it was only in those his eyes that she saw the truth. He could fool everyone, including his parents, but his grandmother always knew what he had doneknew he had done something wrong.

"Jason," she murmured, reaching out to touch him again. Slowly as if he might break, he tipped his head towards her, his blue eyes finding hers, seeking them out so quickly as if he needed them.

Suddenly, she, and she knew he hadn't come to bring her greasy diner food.

"I – I don't know what to do anymore," he whispered, each word sounding so pained as they slipped from his mouth, his pride fading with the weight of his confession.

"Well," she sighed, forcing a smile when he finally took her handg and kneeled down beside her wheelchair., "first things first. WhatWhat do you _want_ to do?" He just looked at her, obviously not understanding what she meant. "What do you feel like doing, Jason? What is your heart telling you?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, dropping his eyes to the ground.

Leaning over, she pulled her hand from his and slipped it beneath his chin, gently tipping his head back so that he had no choice but to look at her. "Some advice," she murmured, tapping his chin with her thumb. "You have to listen to your heart if you want to know what it wants."

"I don't know," he repeated roughly, his face tightening beneath her touch. "I just want to be left alone. I don't want _his_ life or her or – or that baby."

Her chest tightened at his determination to defy deny what he really felt. Obviously, he wanted those things in some form, even if it was something he couldn't quite understand, or he wouldn't be so firm about pushing them away.

"It's not _his_ life," she corrected seriously, choosing her words carefully because the wrong thing would send him into a tailspin, and he was already on one of his own. "When you first woke up, when you lived here – Elizabeth was your friend. You trusted-"

"She lied to me," he interrupted, gently pulling his face away from her hand.

"Oh, Jason, don't you understand?" Lila asked, her rings clanging together as she wrung her hands in her lap. "That was the hardest lie she ever had to tell, but she knew that you would push her away if she told you the truth." She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips pursed together. "And you know that too."

"It doesn't change how it makes me feel," he replied, gritting his teeth as he leaned against the railing. "I felt like a fool. Everyone knew this woman was my wife. She was taking me around town, treating me like a tourist, and everyone knew she was lying to me."

"And how do you think she felt?" she snapped, surprising herself by her tone, but it was difficult to hear him talk about Elizabeth as if she'd done something so terribly wrong. "Lying to her husband so he would give her the time of day? Receiving pity from those who felt sorry for heronce talked behind her back? Having to face all of those people when you turned her away?"

"I'm going to be bold here, only because I love you, and if you never forgive me for saying this, I'll live," she sighed, smoothing her hands over her lap before raising a slender finger in his direction. He lifted his eyes to hers as if wanting to actually hear what she was going to say. "You are _not_ the victim here, Jason. You can try to make yourself one, but it's not going to work."

His eyes hardened to a deep, angry shade of blue she'd never seen. "Why? Because I'm not Elizabeth? Because I'm not carrying the Quartermaine heir? Because I'm not the perfect-"

"Oh, she's far from perfect, and she isn't a victim either!" Lila cried, her voice breaking. Shaking her head, she leaned back in her chair, covering her face with her hands.

"I'm…I'm…" He knelt beside her again, reaching for her hand, but she jerked away. There it was again; that boyish, awkward face, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to pull him into his arms and make this okay, but that was impossible. "I'm sorry."

There it was again; that boyish, awkward face, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to pull him into his arms and make this okay, but that was impossible.

"This is hard for me," she said slowly, her eyes glistening with tears. "To see two people who once loved one another so much on opposite sides. I wish you could understand how devoted Elizabeth was to you, especially after the accident. How difficult things were for her, how she wasn't accepted by anyone except AJ and meI, and how she wanted nothing more than to be _your_ wife."

Jason swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving hers, and when he made no attempt to leave, she decided to continue.

"She thought loving you would be enough," she frowned, reaching for Jason's hand again, embarrassed that she had rejected a touch from someone who rarely gave them. "She fought this entire family, many of whom disliked her name, her lack of wealth, and even her choice in education. They thought she was nothing more than a waste, someone who took the place of what should have been a well-bred addition to our family."

"You liked her," he pointed out, the blues of his eyes softening just a bit.

"Very much," she said, her eyes lighting up. "She was so different from the people I was used to being around, so out of place…She didn't care about money or the family name…I always thought she was very funny, witty evenso witty, and she was always so extremely happy, but love does that to people."

She paused, thinkingShe thought of Elizabeth's rape; of the bitter, angry young woman she had once been, and how she'd fought hard to come through on the other side. Sometimes the only cure for that kind of anger was love; the decision to let yourself be loved and love in return.

"I don't love her," he ground out, catching onto the allusion before she even had a chance to delve into it.

"Maybe not," Lila agreed, squeezing his hand tightly, knowing very well that he might not like what she was about to say. "But you obviously feel something. Otherwise you wouldn't worry, you wouldn't care, and you wouldn't use a silly promise to an old woman to bring it up."

"I don't love her," he repeated, his fingers curling into a fist beneath her hand.

"Then what _do_ you feel?" she asked earnestly, desperately wanting to help him find his way.

He'd been so deeply lost since divorcing Elizabeth, since forcing the one person he had befriended after his accident out of his life, and she knew he had to be searching for something similar in his other acquaintances.

Shrugging, he hung his head, raking one hand through his unkempt hair. "Confused," he answered simply. "I don't understand…I hurt her all the time, but she… loves me…And I – I feel safe with her, but I can't – I can't give her..." Slowly, his head lifted and his eyes sought hers out again, deep, murky shades of blue searching for something he couldn't quite place. "I don't want her and that child. I don't want anything from his life."

"You don't care about the woman before the accident," she said, her eyes filling with tears all over again. He cared about the one who was so patient and understanding, who listened and memorized every word he ever said, and who spent all her free time making sure he felt _truly_ wanted.

She forced a smile, watching as he started to retreat inside himself, pleased that she had touched a part of him no one else had yet – except, except maybe Elizabeth. "You _do_ care about the woman you came to know _after_ the accident. You'd be an idiot not to, Jason, and _Morgans_ are most certainly not idiots."


	29. Chapter 29

**[Prompt – All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts,**** h****is acts being seven ages.**** – As You Like It, William Shakespeare]**

**Chapter 29**

"Elizabeth!" The brunette's head snapped up from the trunk of her car to look over her shoulder. She, smileding at the familiar face,face and silently hoped and silently hoping things wouldn't be so awkward between them. The guard slowed down as he approached her in the alley behind the diner, eyeing her closely, and obviously praying for the same thing. "Hey…"

"Hey," she said warmly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she turned back to her trunk. "I, uh, I'm trying to find an apron. I thought I had left them in a box in my car, but…"

"I'm sure Mike has an extra," Johnny muttered, leaning against her bumper in a way that let her know he didn't really want to talk about aprons.

She hadn't seen him since that night when he'd fought Jason at Jake's. Part of her wanted to call him and smooth things over, but she didn't know what to say. She defended Jason when Johnny had been defending her and the last thing she needed was someone else telling her that she doing the wrong thing when it came to her ex-husband.

"So…you got everything moved okay?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he peekred into her trunk. "And you bought a car…" He nodded, lifting his eyes to her. "You're good?"

"Yeah." She shrugged, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at the old Honda. To most it was a noticeable downgrade from the Jaguar, but it was just a car to her, and as long as it ran she could care less about the hood ornaments – or, or lack thereof. "The move went pretty smoothly, though I feel really bad for Max. I think he almost threw his back out trying to get that old crib up the stairs."

Johnny grinned, far too amused at his friend being in pain. "I heard about that."

"I hope everyone's being nice to him," she scolded, arching her eyebrows at him.

"He's a guard for Sonny Corinthos," he replied pointedly, shaking his head. "And he hurts himself on a crib."

"You're awful," she laughed, giving up on her search for the apron and gently closing the trunk. She was relieved that things felt normal between them, just as they always had, but that didn't mean they could avoid talking about what had happened. "Um, so…"

"Look, I'm sorry I couldn't help out with the move," he said seriously, even though Max had already apologized for him.

A lot had been going on in town involving Sonny and the murder of Anthony Zacchara. The papers said everyone had been questioned and they'd yet to find a culprit, and that was really all Elizabeth wanted to know, anything else would have been too much.

"I catch the news every now and then," she shrugged, walking around to the driver's side door and opening it to grab her purse from the front seat.

He cringed, but she tried to ignore it. What he did on his time was his choice and she wasn't going to judge him for things she did or didn't know. "Yeah, that was part of it," he admitted. "I also wasn't sure if you'd want to talk to me after…"

"You didn't do anything wrong," she said, digging through her purse for the keys that she was sure she'd dropped inside. "And neither did Jason." She opened the door again and checked the ignition, frowning when she didn't see her keysthem. "I hope things are okay between the two of you."

"Yeah, we're fine. Guys can beat the hell out of each other and still be friends," he replied with a laugh, arching an eyebrow as he leaned across the back of the car. His hand reached over the back of the car, reappearingreappeared seconds later with her keys.

"Shit," she grunted, glaring at him when he started to laugh. "It's not funny. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

She was constantly forgetting little things like this; losing keys, her cell phone, even forgetting that she was supposed to have been at the diner an hour ago.

"Ugh, I have to get going," she apologized, holding her hand out for her keys. "I'm already late. I completely forgot about Kelly's reopening this morning – see?" She threw her hands up when her purse slipped out of her hands, not even sure how she'd lost hold of the bag. "I can't do _anything_ right."

Groaning again, she kneeled down, sighing at how exhausted she already felt. Between the move, unpacking, various appointments, and trying _not_ to think about Jason, her days flew by, but left her completely worn out. She'd taken Brenda's advice to heart and honored her promise to Jason; avoiding any possible place that he might be and busying herself with her new apartment and painting, except now, it was time to go back to work.

Days ago, she was excited that Mike had called and said the diner was ready to reopen. She hadn't seen him since the night it was broken into, but knew he had been working on his sobriety and gambling addiction, so he was probably eager to have the diner to keep him busy again too.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Johnny said, stooping down in front of her and helping her pick up what few things had fallen out of her bag. "Oh, wow."

Elizabeth smiled nervously as he dusted off a slim stack of ultrasound pictures she had clipped together that morning after a doctor's appointment. "They're from today," she murmured, reaching over to pull the clip off before she moved to her feet.

Grinning, he fanned through them, his brow crinkling every now and then as he stopped to really look at one of the fuzzy pictures. "Do you know what the baby is?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head, recalling how the doctor had asked if she wanted to know, but she'd been too nervous to find out. "That's going to make it _really_ real." The statement probably sounded ridiculous, but it was how she felt, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to know just yet. For the time being, it was just a life moving around inside of her, and making it a boy or girl was just – well, it scared the living hell out of her.

"I understand," he murmured, handing the photos back to her and looking at her carefully. "Did the doctor say you're okay?" She rolled her eyes as she clipped the pictures back together and tucked them into her purse. "Sorry, it's just…you look tired, a little worried."

"I'm always worried," she reminded him, smoothing a hand over her belly, "but I'm okay. The doctor said everything looks good. The usual take it easy, eat better food speech I keep hearing, but I can't help it if the smell of fruit and milk makes my stomach turn." She decided not to add anything else about how twenty-four week checkup; how her blood pressure was still a little high and that the doctor was worried about her being on her feet all day. "I'm okay. You don't have to worry. And neither does Sonny," she added for good measure.

"I think _he_ worries too," Johnny said, grimacing as soon as the words left his mouth, but Elizabeth just shrugged it off.

"I'm really late now," she replied, starting towards the back door of the diner. "Stop by for lunch or something, okay?" She started inside without waiting for a response, desperate to put distance between her past and future as quickly as possible.

**********

"You alright?" Sonny asked, tipping his head towards Jason as they walked through a newly purchased warehouse. The mob wasmobster was taking his time at with showing Jason the coffee side of his business, the cover of what he really did, and he had talked about splitting up small shares between several of the guards.

Jason nodded, then shrugged, and suddenly didn't know what to say.

Sonny murmured something to Francis as they neared the end of the hallway and the guard promptly disappeared. Jason sighed, knowing that he'd been a little out of sorts the past couple of days, and Sonny was going to try and talk to him, that he'd been a little out of sorts the past couple of days, but his work hadn't slacked in any way.

"You're quieter than normal," his boss commented, motioning Jason into a tiny small office at the end of the hallway. "I don't want to pry, but when you say less than normal, I get nervous. Is this about Anthony? I told you that you and O'Brien are-"

"It's nothing," Jason interrupted curtly, hoping his boss would relent this one time. Usually he didn't mind the subtle questions and found talking to Sonny to be easy, but tonight, he could only think about everything that was wrong.

"Okay, if there's nothing you want to talk about you're free to go," Sonny murmured, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. Jason hesitated too long. "If it's not Anthony, I assume it's Elizabeth."

Apparently, he wasn't as hard to read as he'd like to be. "I saw Lila this morning," he said, knowing that wasn't enough of an explanation. "I promised her food from Kelly's."

Sonny's mouth hitched in a dimpled smile. "First time for everything, huh?" he asked, knowing the older woman had never even been inside such a place. Everyone knew Edward Quartermaine and company only dined at the finest of restaurants.

"Yeah," Jason replied, leaning against the doorway in preparation of a quick exit, like always. "She has me thinking…_a lot_." He scrubbed his hand over his face, his head fillinged with more thoughts and feelings than he was able to process, all because of the things his grandmother had said to him.

Was it possible to feel and think too much? It wasn't like he'd never thought about these things; what had happened to him in this new life, the awful things he felt, but now he couldn't turn them off.

He'd thought a lot about the moment that he'd first opened his eyes, recalling the face of each and every Quartermaine, as well as how quickly Elizabeth disappeared from the room. There was so much about that moment that he didn't quite understand; the unfamiliarity in the eyes of those looking back at him, the strange sound of their voices, and how they lingered when she had seemed so determined to stay away.

He remembered going to the Quartermaine mansion, feeling as if the large fence around the property was going to keep him locked inside, and how she was so determined to set him free. She Elizabeth was there everyday, taking their verbal beatings and horrible accusations, and never failing to smile when he entered the room.

How she drove him through town and let him _really_ see things for the first time, answering questions if he had them and staying quiet when there was nothing else to say. He'd known long before she ever admitted it that they the Quartermaines hated her, had heard how outright cruel they could be, but she always came back. He rarely sympathized with her, mostly hatingbut hated how it made him feel every time they attacked her. She was always so nice to him, so generous and patient, and then everything had changed.

He overheard her talking to the Quartermaines about a lie, a lie that she had crafted on her own without _their_ input, and when he learned the truth, he fell apart. There was so much frustration and anger inside him from the moment he woke up and didn't recognize anything, and when Elizabeth told him she was his wife, something broke, and he released everything – _on her. _

It was the worst kind of betrayal he imagined a person could ever experience; for someone to be anyone except who you thought they were, and he had no idea how he was supposed to ever get over that. It was a bitterness that ran deeper than he thought he was capable of feeling. Everything until then had just been a simple act of life, his way of going through the motions, and Elizabeth broke _everything_.

Stupidly, he supposed he had thought they weren't connected; she was a random woman who took pity on him, a. And sometimes, he thought he knew they she were was more than thought that all along. Her voice was softer when she spoke to him, her movements more guarded, and she looked at him with such kind eyes, and when he learned that he was her husband, he just wanted to break all of that. He wanted to hurt her as hard and deep as she had hurt him by lying and all it had done was make things even worse.

He had gone over the lie, the severity of hiding their marriage, but it was mostly the child that left his stomach churning. This leftover piece of Jason Quartermaine's life, that even if he Jason could have had something with Elizabeth – he just didn't know what to do. How could he contemplate being apart of a Elizabeth's life, let alone a child's existence when he didn't even know how to love? He wasn't capable of feeling the things that Elizabeth did for him; in fact, he bucked them in every possible way.

"I'm sorry," Jason muttered, realizing that his clenched fist was beating against the doorframe. "I'm going to go."

"Wait," Sonny said, holding his hand up for him to stop when he turned. He pushed himself out of his chair and walked around the side of his desk, looking surprised that Jason had actually stoppedstayed. "I don't know what Lila said to you, but I can see that it got to you." He shrugged indifferently. "I know it would be easy to swallow what you're feeling, to push it away like everything else, but if it has you this upset, Jason, figure out what to do with it."

He nodded, turning for the door again, and stopping stopped again when Sonny said one last thing. "Things can eat at a man, even when he tries to ignore them, they're always eating, and eventually they work themselves out, even if he doesn't want them to."

**********

"I didn't order this." The customer looked up from the burger and fries, his lips pressed in a tight frown.

Elizabeth cringed, nibbling her lip as she glanced down at the plate, and then over at the table where she'd dropped a salad off seconds ago. "My mistake," she apologized, taking the burger and fries and turning around to the other table, only to find that the patron had decided to eat the food that wasn't his.

"Don't have time to wait," he spat in between bites, and she looked back over her shoulder, wondering if there was any way she could convince the other person to be happy with the burger and fries.

"Sorry," she murmured again, taking a deep breath as she started for the kitchen to return her tenth meal or so of the day. Mike looked up from the stove with kind eyes as she came bursting through, her eyes stinging with tears. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey now," he said, tossing his kitchen towel down on the counter and abandoning the food to walk over to her. "A salad won't kill that guy, just like a burger wouldn't hurt the other."

She forced a smile, thankful that he'd been so kind when she had messed everything up throughout the day. Forgetting orders were the least of her problems when she thought about all that she'd dropped, spilled, or tripped over while trying to navigate her way through the small dining room.

It had barely been a month since Kelly's had closed and her stomach had more than grown, making it cumbersome when it came to fitting between the tables. Not to mention that the constant kicking, rolling around, and all out fits her baby seemed to be having inside her proved to be _extremely_ distracting. Her feet were swollen, her legs ached, and the smell of most of the food was making her want to throw up – s. And sometimes she did.

"You've been here all day," Mike said, placing a hand on her shoulder and ducking his head to look her in the eyes. "You can take off whenever you want."

"We're slammed," she replied, shaking her head. "I can't leave Georgie with every table inside and out full, as well as all the takeout orders."

"We'll manage," he shrugged, turning back to the stove when a burger started to smoke.

"I'm fine," she sighed, holding up her hands as if to say it was nothing.

"Then at least take a break," he said, pointing his spatula at her.

"Will do," she nodded, turning back to the swinging door as she tugged off her apron. She grabbed her purse from behind the counter, making it as far as the steps that led upstairs before sitting down, simply because she wasn't sure if she could stand any longer.

Being a pregnant waitress was hell.

She leaned against the wall and wiped sweat from her brow, contemplating whether or not to just go home. She'd been here working since around noon and it was almost eight, which meant just a couple more hours and the diner would be closed. Too bad she had to come back and do it all again tomorrow. She dug around in her purse and pulled out the slim stack of pictures from her appointment that morning, her eyes stinging with tears as she reminded herself why she was working this hard. Stuffing them back inside, she pulled out the mail that Mike had given her. She hadn't even thought about bills or anything else that would come while she was staying at her studio, and she'd come back to a flood of more stress in the form of _you owe us_ by _this_ date.

"Whatever," she groaned, putting them back in her purse when she heard Georgie call for her. "Coming!"

Elizabeth should have known better than to take a break during the dinner rush. There was hardly any time to think, let alone sit, and she was back into the hustle and bustle before she knew it. Her head spun from the orders and drinks, but she focused on making as few mistakes as possible, and either people were too nice to call her out on them, or she'd actually doneshe was actually doing a good job.

Around nine, she and Georgie had a moment to catch their breath, but then an entire kid's baseball team came bursting into the diner, and they both knew it was going to be a while before they got to go home. The orders were easy; Sprites, burgers, and fries, so it went pretty quickly, but they were so loud – headache, cringe worthy loud.

"If that crier doesn't stop," Elizabeth hissed, leaning over the counter as Georgie shoveled ice beside her.

"I'll be glad to stop him," the younger woman said, gritting her teeth as she refilled their glasses. Elizabeth pushed herself away to help, but Georgie stopped her, tossing her head to the other side of the counter.

Her Elizabeth's eyes snapped forward to see Jason standing in front of her, and she closed them, willing it to be a lie. She just couldn't handle him after the day she had. If he wanted to make someone feel like shit, he could go to the bar. She was in no mood to be a punching bag.

"What can I get you?" she asked, swallowing hard as she pulled her pad of paper from her apron. He just looked at her, which slightly infuriated her more than anything else had that day. "What. Can. I. Get. You?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid," he muttered, leaning against the counter, his eyes narrowed intensely at hers.

"Don't stand there like you're stupid," she replied, clamping her mouth shut when she realized what she'd said.

So much for customer service.

His jaw tightened, anger slowly rushing through him, all the way to his fingertips where his fists were now clenched. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Right now?" she asked, shaking her head at him.

"You said-"

"I know what I said," she snapped, confused as to whether she was more frustrated that he'd actually come when she couldn't talk or that he'd bother to come at all.

"Sorry it's not convenient for you," he replied hastily, watching her as she came around the counter.

"No, it's not," she agreed, taking a deep breath and trying to figure out where this sudden god awful mood had come from. Then again, it had been building all day. "It's not going to be convenient for a while." She held up her hands to apologize, but something else took over. "I just can't. I'm finishing up a ten hour day, my feet hurt, this damn baby won't stop kicking me for five minutes, and I just–"

"Feel free to add me to that list," he hissed, starting to turn away from her.

"Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what you want," she huffed angrily. "I'm working, Jason. Couldn't you come to my apartment or-"

"You moved," he muttered, looking back at her.

"You can find me if you want to," she argued, shaking her head. "Every damn guard who works with you helped me." His eyes darkened and she wondered if she'd embarrassed him because he had really been the only one who hadn't helped. "Whatever." She shrugged, knowing this wasn't the time or place for any of this. Honestly, she didn't think there was a time or place period.

"Can I take your order? Or are you going to leave?"

She looked over when Georgie called her name and nearly burst into tears when she saw the amount of soda that had been spilt on the floor. Glancing back at Jason, she was surprised that his eyes had softened to a tender shade of blue, but they darkened the moment her gaze lingered. "I'll have the number four," he answered roughly, not wanting to lose an ounce of his pride by walking out the door empty handed in some way.

"Coming right up," she swallowed, scribbling it onto the pad with a shaky hand. Another wave of anger rushed through her when she looked up and saw the smug gleam in his eyes. "I'll try not to spit in it, but I don't make any promises."


	30. Chapter 30

**[Prompt – Well, gentlemen, when the shit hits the fan, some guys run and some guys stay.****  
****- Lt. Col. Frank Slade, **_**Scent of a Woman****]**_

**Chapter 30 **

"I really appreciate you coming by," Elizabeth said, freshening Diane Miller's cup of coffee with a tired smile. She knew enough about the woman to know she preferred wine, but unfortunately Mike didn't have a liquor license, so a strong cup of coffee was the hardest thing she could offer.

Thankfully, Diane didn't seem to mind.

"I'm still wading through all of this," the attorney sighed, clucking her tongue as she fanned through the stack of papers, most of which Elizabeth had received in the past few days. "Have you discussed any of this with AJ? I know youYou had mentioned that you were close."

"I've tried," she shrugged, not adding that she'd called her brother-in-law continuously in the past few days, but he'd yet to call her back. His secretary kept saying he was in Manhattan for business, and Elizabeth wanted to lie and say it was an emergency, but she didn't want to worry him either. "I think…I think everyone's going to pick sides. AJ's picking his now."

She was trying not to judge AJ for taking over the CEO position at ELQ. It was his dream, the one thing he always wanted, and everyone knew that, especially Edward. She just didn't want his dream to come at the cost of his character, of the promises he had made, but she wasn't going to force him to be in her life or her child's.

Sure, he had promised to be there, to be a father figure, but a lot had changed, and she wasn't sure she wanted him around anyway.

It was almost funny; how quickly AJ stepped into a designer suit and oversized office and became the one person he'd swore he never be;, Edward Quartermaine. Elizabeth didn't really have anything against the old man. Everything he'd done in the past couple of months had been to try and hold onto his great-grandchild, the one he was so sure she was going to keep away.

"It might help to have one of the Quartermaines to discuss this with," Diane murmured, frowning heavily as she stirred cream into her coffee.

"I only talk to Lila," Elizabeth replied, her shoulders sagging when a couple of customers came in the door. There was an hour to closing, and she was hoping she'd have the rest of the night to take her time cleaning up, but she couldn't get that lucky. "If Lila knew that Edward was starting things because of the baby…I don't want to bring friction to their family. They aren't people I want to fight."

"But they've already starting fighting you," she reminded her, jabbing the papers with her finger. "I can understand that they want to know their grandchild, but you've given them no indication that you're going to keep the baby from them. All they're doing is giving you a perfectly good reason why you should." She sipped her coffee and shook her head. "Or worse, they're trying to put you in a bad enough situation that you have no choice but to ask them for help."

"Exactly," Elizabeth agreed, bracing one hand against the counter and rubbing her belly with the other. The baby had been fussier than usual today; kicking and stretching, rolling around in the most uncomfortable of ways. It was almost like the child sensed her fear, the worry that she was being pushed into a corner, and she'd have toforcing her to ask for help from a family that never wanted her. "Maybe I should have signed their agreement – given them weekends or something, but…"

"They should have never done this in the first place," Diane hissed angrily. "I may work for Sonny Corinthos, and he may be corrupt in his own right, but he would never do something like this." She took another sip of her coffee, clearly wishing it was something else. "There is nothing worse than disgustingly rich people who throw their weight around like this."

"Which is another good point," she replied, smiling thankfully at Georgie when the young woman came out of the kitchen to wait on the table. "I don't have the money or the means to go up against the Quartermaines. They could easily buy off a judge. Or worse, they could make me look like a horrible mother. I'm not living up to their standards-"

"Which is partly their fault," Diane interrupted, her eyes softening as she reached over and put her hand on Elizabeth's. "You don't have to have a million dollars and a bank account to be a good mother. You're working hard, harder than you should be if you ask me, and I'm well aware you didn't." The attorney flashed a wide smile. "You've done wrong. Nothing to put your child in danger."

Elizabeth shrugged, not wanting to point out yet again that the Quartermaines had money, or that she was starting to fear what was going to happen once this baby was actually born.

"Also, Sonny Corinthos has just as much money and pull in a court of law," she added gleefully.

"I can't borrow anymore money from him," Elizabeth objected, her cheeks flushing when she noticed one of the women at the back table was looking at her far too curiously. She was used to it from some customers; the nosey ones who liked to gossip, but being used to it didn't make it easy.

Diane noticed her uneasiness and looked over her shoulder. "Some people have no tact," she said rather loudly, and the woman's gaze dropped to her menu. "I don't know how you put up with them. I'd stick my Jimmy Choo in their…" She chuckled, her eyes dropping to Elizabeth's belly. "Well, it's nothing a child should here."

"Thank you," Elizabeth laughed, tucking her hair behind my earlaughed.

She was nervous when she first called Diane, not wanting to use the woman's time when she knew she wasn't going to take any money. She'd almost gone to Jax and Brenda, and even though Brenda had become the best friend lately, always calling and checking on her and stopping by her apartment, she couldn't bring herself to go to them with money issues.

"Well, I haven't done anything yet," Diane said, sliding her glasses down her nose as she continued to look over the papers. "But I plan on it." Elizabeth started to object, but she waved her handg at her and rolled her eyes. "Sonny's already instructed me to take care of anything you need should you call, and honestly, I don't mind. This is much easier work than I'm used to getting. I go into a courtroom or serve some bastards with a few papers and walk away with a brand new pair of shoes. It's cake work."

"Glad it's easy on your end," Elizabeth murmured, cringing at the insult. "I just meant-"

"No harm done," she interrupted, smoothing the papers into a neat stack. "There's really only one question left. What do you want to do about this?"

She nibbled her lip and shrugged exhaustedly. "Nothing," she admitted, knowing how ridiculous that must sound. "I'm not owed anything for being Jason's wife. I just wanted to raise my child in peace. Honestly, I'd rather earn every dime on my own than to be tied to them."

"Ah, I'm not used to clients doing the honorable thing," Diane grinned, getting up from the stool. She dug through her purse for her wallet, and Elizabeth shook her head, a free cup of coffee was the least she could give the woman, but Diane tossed down a fivea five down anyway. "My advice? Get in touch with AJ. If he cares about you and this baby as much as you think he does, he'll work something out for you. And if not, there's always the grandmother…and Jason."

Elizabeth's chest tightened at his name. "Thank you," she said, mentally listing all the reasons neither one of them were options. Going to Lila would cause more tension and upset the old woman a great deal, and Jason, well, after the way she treated him a few nights ago, she'd be lucky if he ever came around her again.

She hadn't meant to snap so hard. It had just been a long, horrible day and he showed up at the wrong time. Part of her meant the attitude, it made up for the ones he'd given her, and the other knew he didn't know how to process it, and probably thought she didn't want anything to do with him.

Unfortunately for him, she didn't have time to worry about his feelings right now.

"I'm going to make some calls," Diane said, handing Elizabeth's paperwork back to her. "I'll be in touch." She grabbed her briefcase from the counter and gave the young woman a sad smile. "In the mean time, you rest and don't worry. You and your baby are going to be fine."

**********

"I was wondering if you were going to pick up," Carly purred into the phone, causing Jason to roll his eyes as he started towards the back of one of Sonny's warehouses. "I was hoping I could see you tonight."

"I'm working," he grunted, regretting that he'd answered, but knew she would kept keep calling. He couldn't blame her, really, because when the sex was good between them, it was really, really good. "Maybe later."

"Maybe, huh?" she murmured quietly, trying to play it off, even though he knew she'd give in.

There was a part of him that wanted to avoid her all together; the humiliated side who had somehow allowed her to take care of him, but eventually his scratch needed to be itched, and he found himself going to easiest place of all. Sure, Port Charles had plenty of sleazy bars, but he was comfortable at Jake's, just like he was comfortable taking Carly to bed. There weren't any awkward introductions or fumbling around in the sheets. They both knew what to do and how to make the best of it, which made it so very, very easy.

All it took for her to pull him into her arms was showing up on her doorstep and flashing a simple smirk. She muttered some shit about knowing that he'd come around eventually, and he tried not to let her think she was anything more than a quick fix, one that he'd been _really_ desperate for.

Between Lila, Sonny, and Elizabeth, he was starting to feel like he was going to explode. It was one thing building on top of another, and he _needed_ to let go and feel something besides anger, and sex, he'd found, was the easiest place to get thatlet go. He could get lost in the rough and hard motions, blocking out everything else that bothered him, even if it the rest of his life was going to drift to thethrough the haze almost immediately afterwards. For those few minutes, sometimes an hour, he tried not to feel or think about anything else, and Carly had been the best at distracting him in just the right way.

And lately, he needed the distraction between work and his last encounter with Elizabeth.

The two should be separate, but they weren't with Sonny and Johnny having gotten close to his ex-wife. Every time he looked at his boss or heard someone saying Elizabeth's name, it made his stomach churn, especially when they looked at him afterwards, like he'd done something wrong. It wasn't his fault that she moved to the other side of town and was working miserable hours that left her exhausted, and it surely wasn't his fault that she was pregnant and put in this position in the first place.

"I'll call you later," he said firmly, snapping his phone closed and sighing heavily at the brief wave of uneasiness that came over him.

He'd gotten used to it in the past couple of days.

It came mostly when he was around Carly, when he was taking what he wanted, and when he was spent afterwards.

Sex with her was satisfying, mind-blowing even for the time they were together, but the minute he was done and rolled onto his back, he felt empty again. Angry, even, and he found himself getting out of her apartment as quickly as possible. Thankfully, she'd finally gotten the hint and she didn't question him about the things he did when he wasn't with her. She might talk about a bunch of shit he didn't care about, but she wasn't asking about him, so he could handle that.

Sighing, he tried to clear his head as he walked down the hallway to Sonny's office, knowing he was a few minutes late, but hoped that the shipment hadn't arrived yet. WAnd when he neared the office door, he knew he it hadn't.

"Diane would tell me if Elizabeth was in trouble," he heard Sonny say, the man's voice drifting into the hallway.

"She _is_ in trouble," Johnny insisted, his voice much louder than the mobster's.

Jason scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to forget how worn out she'd looked the other night at the diner. How tired her eyes were and how her shoulders sagged in defeatshoulders sagged when she looked at the table of little kids. He hadn't gone there to make her night worse or even demand that she talk to him – he just _wanted_ to talk to her.

"…hurt herself or the baby," he heard O'Brien finish as he stepped into the doorway, having missed the last part of the conversation.

He tried to ignore how his stomach churned at the words, his fists clenching as he looked at the two men standing in the office.

"Jason," Sonny perked up, glaring at Johnny as he got up from his desk and walked over to him. "Uh, now that you're here, we can go down to the loading dock."

He hesitated, almost asking them what was wrong with Elizabeth, but shoved it aside. He couldn't care about her – he'd tried, he'd gone to her, and he couldn't do that again.

His boss clapped him on the shoulder as they started down the hallway, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension as he looked at his employee. "Everything's fine, Jason."

"I don't care," he muttered stiffly, jerking open the door to the loading dock.

Sonny grunted behind him, the only verbal argument he would give in front of Johnny, and Jason was relieved. He just wasn't sure if he could take it tonight.

It was all he'd been thinking about – well, between sleeping with Carly and what little work he managed to get done. Though sometimes, he couldn't stop thinking about Elizabeth. He kept seeing the frustration and exhaustion in her face and hearing the anger and bitterness in her tone. Everything about her was so damn haunting.

"Jason?" Johnny looked at him curiously when he finally snapped to attention.

"Yeah," he said, walking out to the edge of the loading dock and looking across the harbor. He liked the docks at night, found them comforting, and had spent far too many nights pacing them when he couldn't sleep.

"That's what we're waiting on," he muttered, pointing across the water to a boat that was barely visible in the dark skyamidst the night's dark sky.

"Here." O'Brien handed him a pair of binoculars, but didn't say anything else.

They were still working things out after their fight. Jason didn't care that he'd Johnny had hit him. He probably should have thanked him, but there was still an unspoken tension, one that would exist as long as he Jason was at odds with Elizabeth.

Sighing, Jason peered through the binoculars, checking to make sure that the boat was coming in safely. Sonny had men stationed all around the docks for that. Then, for good measure like he was taught, he checked the docks for any signs of police cars, undercover agents, or any kind of law enforcement that might give them trouble.

His eyes fluttered across the docks, lingering on the Elm Street Pier, a particular hotspot for activity, and just when he started to move the binoculars, he noticed someone on the docks. Narrowing his eyes, he focused through the tiny lenses, his stomach dropping at the small figure on her knees, her hands grasping at the wooden planks.


	31. Chapter 31

**[Prompt – "Passion... it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us... passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have?****Passion is the source of our finest moments; the joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief.****It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank... without passion, we'd be truly dead.****"** **– Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer]**

**Chapter 31 **

"I know," Elizabeth sighed, smoothing her hand across over her belly as she walked down the stairs of the Elm Street Pier. She closed her eyes and leaned against the railing, tired, but not enough to go back to her little apartment and crawl into bed. "Walking is the last thing you want to do."

Lately, she'd been so restless at night, her head filled with worries and apprehensions, all the possibilities of what could go wrong. There was just too much in her life to keep her up at night, and for once, she didn't really want to sleep. She wanted to walk across the docks, spend some time listening to the water, and maybe go to her studio to paint. Her insides had felt so knotted and this was the only thing that sounded mildly relaxing.

"See," she murmured, shuffling her way over to the edge of the dock, her eyes fluttering closed at the soft sounds of the water. "Your daddy and I used to walk these docks all the time at night. I used to think about how we'd walk with you." She hung her head, cradling her belly as she turned around and started for the bench, swearing as her purse slid down her arm, somehow managing to fall to the ground.

"Great," she grunted, glaring at her purse when her cell phone, a tube of chapstick, and some of her papers fell loose. "I hope I get my mind back once you're born." She laughed at herself as she kneeled down, grinning at how good it felt to just sit downbe off her feet. "You like that?" She patted her belly when the baby remained still for a few seconds, quite a feat considering how much it liked to move. "I know. I'm tired too, but we've got tomorrow off, and I promise, I'll keep my feet up as much as possible, okay?"

She chuckled when she felt a firm kick against her side, one that almost left her breathless, but it was good to know her child was as excited about being lazy as she was. "Alright," she muttered, rocking forward and shoving things into her purse, deciding that she was just going to go home.

There would be plenty of time to paint…someday.

"Goodness," she said, easing her purse up her arm as she rubbed her belly, suddenly snapping to attention when she heard the sound of heavy boots on the docks. She tensed up when she realized they were coming from behind her, the sound ceasing as they came to a stop, and she tried to ignore the overwhelming sense of fear that washed over her.

"Eliza-" She swung her purse around in a hurry when she felt someone grab her arm, the person stumbled back, letting out a string of curse words. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wha – Jason?" Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, groaning when she saw that now the entire contents of her purse were strewn across the docks. "You – you came up behind me and – and grabbed me!"

"I thought – I thought you were hurt," he growled, rubbing a hand against his cheek. "What the hell are do you carrying in that thing?"

She swallowed hard, confused as to whether he was angry or concerned, but she didn't have time to ask because Sonny and Johnny came barreling up behind him. "Elizabeth, are you okay?" O'Brien asked, trying to catch his breath. "You were…on the…ground."

"I dropped my purse," she said, trying not to laugh at how the men had rushed over. "Where did you…"

"We were working on the docks," Johnny explained, stepping around Jason to lean over and start picking up her things.

"I can get this," she murmured, her cheeks flushing when he started to gather up the paperwork. She snatched it away more hastily than she meant to, but the guard didn't seem to mind. "I'm sorry that I scared you guys. I just got off from work. I was thinking about going to my studio."

"Couldn't you have driven?" Jason asked, his eyes swimming with relief that she wasn't hurt.

AOr at least that's why she liked to think it was.

"My studio is just across the docks," she replied, taking her purse back from Johnny and trying to ignore the scolding looks of the men. "It's not a big deal." She sighed, pressing her hand against her stomach when the baby started to kick. "I'm _fine_."

None of them looked convinced. "Let me take you to your studio," Johnny offered, walking over to her, but she shrugged it off.

"I just need a minute," she said, holding her hand up as she walked over to the bench and sat down.

Sonny stepped forward, his mouth in a heavy frown. "Are you sure-"

"I heard Jason running up behind me," she explained, laughing at how ridiculous she must have sounded. "I got a little frazzled is all." O'Brien nodded, his eyes flashing towards Jason, and Elizabeth was afraid she was going to see a reenactment of that night at the bar. "Please, just go back to work."

Johnny started to object, but Sonny shook his head and motioned for him to go, obviously wanting to leave Jason there with her. SAnd she just didn't know how to feel about that.

"If you need anything-"

"I'll call," she cut in, relieved when Johnny relented and followed after his boss. She saw Jason contemplate his choices; to go or stay.,

Eventually and eventually staying won out.

"You shouldn't be down here at night," he said stiffly, leaning over to pick up the tube of chapstick that the guard had missed. Instead of giving it back to her, he rolled it around in his hand. "It's not safe."

"I think I handled myself pretty well," she replied, leaning back against the bench and closing her eyes.

Why couldn't anything ever come simple for her? If she wanted to take a simple stroll on the docks, despite how late or early it was, she should be able to without interference.

"I could have been anyone," Jason muttered, his fist clenched around the tube.

"But you weren't," she pointed out, opening her eyes to find him staring at her intensely. "You were…_you_."

"Yeah, I guess you were just lucky, huh?" he asked spitefully, looking glancing away as if he couldn't bear to look at her any longer.

"Depends on what you mean by lucky," she replied, pursing her lips together at her harsh tone. She wasn't used to being so on edge, so damn pissed off all the time, but lately, her life had given her a reason to be bitter.

"Just go home. Stop forcing people to worry about when they shouldn't have to," he muttered, thrusting the chapstick at her, but she didn't take it.

"What people?" she asked curiously, arching her eyebrows at him. "You? You don't have to worry about me, Jason. In fact, you've made it pretty damn clear that-"

"_Everyone_ worries about you," he interrupted, turning around and throwing the chapstick into the water, the splash barely audible. "Sonny. Johnny. Mike. All the fucking guards. Diane. Stop making people worry."

"I'm not doing anything," she scoffed, getting up from the bench and walking over to him. "You think I want to make people worry? I didn't ask for any of this."

"So you're a victim?" he asked smugly, like it was some kind of insult.

"No, I'm not," she replied firmly, her jaw tightening. "And that's a hell of an accusation coming from you."

"I don't even know what that means," he muttered, stiffening as he turned his attention to the water, and she knew that she'd struck a nerve.

"Yeah, you do," she argued, biting back a laugh. "You're not as stupid as you want people to think."

"Who said I was stupid?" he asked, glaring at her when she finally did laugh.

"Lots of people sayPeople say lots of things," she replied, almost disgusted by how horribly she was treating him, but she just didn't care anymore.

She'd been there for Jason; sat at his bedside, held his hand, waited with baited breath for him to open his eyes, and he'd done nothing but spit in her face. She was so _tired_ of trying to be something to someone who didn't want anything.

"Yeah, they do," he agreed, tipping his head towards her. "I've heard plenty about you lately."

She shrugged and looked out over the water, refusing to give him any reason to be a jerk, but this was Jason.

He _always_ had a reason.

Sighing, he prepared to mentally tick off a list of things he'd heard. "Working too hard. Moving into a dump. Living poor and worthless. Hurting your baby."

"You don't know what you're talking about," she said, hanging her head when her eyes filled with tears. "You don't – you don't know anything."

"You don't tell me anything," he replied, his eyes catching hers as they peeked through her messy curls.

"You don't want to know anything," she hissed, rolling her eyes as she turnedturning away from him, raking a hand through her hair as she wiped her eyes with the other.

"That's not…" He started, rubbing his hands over his face. "I don't know what you want from me, Elizabeth. I came to you-"

"While I was working!" she interrupted, spinning around and throwing her hands up at him. "I can't drop my life for you, Jason! You can't just show up and expect me to fall to my knees every time you decide you want to talk."

"I didn't expect you to," he cried, his chest heaving as he started towards her, then stopped and turned away. At least he seemed to have more self-control these days. "You don't think I want to stay away? I want to act like you don't even exist, like you're nothing, but for some fucking reason I can't."

"So what does that mean?" she asked softly, walking up behind him. "That you resent the fact that you have to deal with my existence? That you hate me for this? That you're going to be the same angry, son of a bitch that you've been this whole time?"

"I don't know," he replied, his fists clenched at his sides. His shoulders tightened, drawing up protectively around him as she approached. "I don't…"

"You don't what?" she pressed. He stayed quiet and she silently scolded herself for even trying. "I'm sorry, Jason, but I can't do this." Taking a deep breath, she smoothed a hand against her side when her stomach tightened, and she felt the baby stretching inside her. "I don't have the energy or the time. I can't – I can't be this safe place for you. I have too much else going on."

"I didn't ask you to be that place," he replied roughly, carefully turning around to look at her. His eyes were dark, his stance stiff as he started to shut down, and for once, she just didn't care. She was so tired of trying and then for him to come around _now_, when there was so much else she had to worry about. "You designated it. I don't need you to be anything for me."

He stepped forward, pointing is finger at her. "All I want is for you to stop being so fucking _stupid_. Stop walking the docks at night before you get really hurt. Stop working ten hour shifts before you over exhaust yourself. And stop going to Sonny for help. I'm sick of hearing about it everywhere I go."

"I'm sorry that I'm an inconvenience, but there are bigger problems than _you're your_ feelings," she said, her lips quivering as she stretched on her toes, wishing she could meet him eye-to-eye so she could tell him what she really thought. "What I do, my friends, and my job aren't your concern. I'm fine, so don't tell me that I'm hurting myself or this baby because you don't know a damn thing."

"I know enough," he growled, clenching his fists as he glared at her. "I tried to avoid you being a problem. I tried to get rid of you. I gave you enough fucking money to go buy an island somewhere – to just _disappear_, and you – you have too much pride to actually use it. You and your baby could have a great life, Elizabeth, one far away from here, but you're-"

"I never wanted the money because of that," she interrupted, resisting the urge to just lunge forward and beat the living hell out of him. She was pretty sure with the rage and frustration that she was carrying inside her that she might actually pull it offbe able to. "Jason would have never wanted me to use his money like that, but – but I had had this baby to think about it. And that's the only reason why I ever accepted any of it."

"Then use it and go away," he barked, his voice so loud that he startled her and she rocked back on her feet.

"I can't," she said, turning away from him, knowing she had to get away – now _now_. S, she had to get as far from him as possible. She hurried over to the bench and grabbed her purse, silently willing asking her child to stop moving for just a few minutes.

"Because you won't." He followed right behind her, the former bitter Jason Morgan returning, the one who didn't give a damn about anything except hurting her. It wasn't like the kind, broken down man was going to last forever. "You're going to hurt yourself, or worse, this baby, and it's going to be your fault be-"

"There isn't any money!" she screamed, turning around and shoving him in the chest as she burst into tears. She stumbled on her feet, catching herself on him, and when she realized she was holding onto him, she let go and shoved him away again. "There isn't any fucking money. I'm – I'm broke."

She backed away, holding a hand over her mouth at her admission, hating the way he looked at her. "That's – that's impossible," he said, gritting his teeth. "How are you – what the hell did you do with it?"

"I didn't do anything," she replied quietly, trying to hold back her tears, but they just kept coming and coming. "The Quartermaines – they took it back."

"Wha – what?" he stammered.

"They – they took the money," she repeated, closing her eyes as her stomach tightened, knowing she shouldn't have been embarrassed about this. "They – they were afraid I was going to keep the baby from them. They wanted this baby, but – it's an heir, not a child to most of them. I told them I wouldn't, that they could see the baby whenever they wanted, but it wasn't enough."

"I don't understand," he muttered, shaking his head as if he didn't believe her.

"They said – they said you weren't of sound mind when you gave me the money," she explained, swallowing hard. She wasn't going to add that she could see their point, that a person who just woke up from a coma didn't sign over ten million dollars. Even she had questioned his sanity over the money. "I didn't want the money, but there was the baby…And I keep keep telling myself that Jason would want his child to be taken care of and I don't know if I can do it on my own. And they know that, so they're trying – they want to back me in a corner to where I _have_ to ask for help. With medical bills, with taking care of the baby, anything they can do to where I have no choice."

He continued to shake his head; his eyes looking everywhere except at her. "I don't – why – why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I tell you?" she asked, gently wiping her cheeks. "You don't want anything to do with me or this baby." She bit back a sob at the statement, something about it making this more real than it ever had been. "You've made it very clear that this child isn't yours."

"But you – I could – you-"

"I'm _nothing_ too," she interrupted firmly, grimacing as she continued to rub her belly, wondering if she was going to have the energy to make it back to her car, let alone drive across town.

"You're not," he ground out, rubbing the side of his head with his fist. "I just just don't know what you are." His eyes finally settled on hers, soft and blue, tender even. "I don't – I can get you money."

"I don't want your money," she groaned angrily, unsure of what she wanted, but it wasn't this. It wasn't charity or pity. "Why would you give me money?"

"Because you need it," he shrugged simply. "I have some. You can – you can have it."

"Enough to disappear?" she asked, her lips quivering. "Maybe if you make it known your intentions with better known with this money, it'll work better for you. How much are you going to give me to go away this time, Jason? _How much?"_

"I'm just trying to help you," he hissed, rubbing his fists together as his eyes darkened.

"Help? You don't want me or this baby around," she spat, pointing her finger at him. "You think if buy me off, I'll just leave you alone. That you can go back to doing whatever the hell you want. I'll be out of sight, out of mind, and you can be that _worthless, son of a_-"

"Fuck you," he interrupted, starting towards, but somehow manageding to stop himself. "I don't give a damn what happens to you or your bastard, Eliz-" She rushed forward, her hand colliding with the side of his face, not once, but twice, and when he seemed unfazed, she shoved him, her fists pounding against his chest.

"You're too stupid to even know what you want!" she hissed, her fist connecting with the corner of his mouth. "You hate me! You want me! You can't stand me! You can't live without me! Figure out what you fucking want, Jason!"

She stopped long enough to catch her breath, before launching at him again, her fists bouncing off his chest, the sounds deep and hollow. "Stop being a coward! Stop hiding behind your pathetic jabs and ridiculous anger and grow the fuck up! Be a _real_ man! Or are you just angry because you know you'll never be _him_? You'll never be that good? That loved? You will never be Jason Quartermaine."

"You don't think I know that?" he fired back, grabbing her wrists and jerking her against him so that she'd stop hitting him. "That I'm not good enough? Or smart enough? That I can't love? Or be a father? You want to hurt me, Elizabeth, I suggest you try a little harder! Go for something deeper!"

"Deeper?" she asked, trying to pretend that she didn't care that she'd hurt him, that she'd rubbed salt in a wound she'd somehow looked over. "You're already too deep on your own." Swallowing hard, she twisted her wrists in his grasp. "Let go of me."

His jaw ticked, his hands tightening for a split second, and then finally he released herbefore he finally finally released her.

"Don't…" She sucked in a breath when she realized how broken her voice sounded, telling herself to pull it together. "Don't come near me again, you got that?" she asked, tears slipping from her eyes. "I don't want anything to do with you. You stay _far_ away or I swear to God, I will get a restraining order. I don't want you near me or this baby."

Her eyes lingered on his longer than she wanted; long enough to see how much her words at had hurt him, how much he really needed her, but until he admitted it, she couldn't do a damn thing for him.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around, letting out a quiet sob as she started for the stairs, hating that she was walking away when he needed her. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, wanting him to say her name, to say anything, but he didn't, so she started up them, stumbling when she felt her stomach tighten like it had so many times that day. She didn't have the energy to soothe her baby, so she ignored themit.

"Okay, okay," she whispered, stopping halfway up and leaning against the railing as she tried to catch her breath. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, which usually worked, but this…this was _different_. Her stomach felt like it was being pulled from both sides at the same time. "No, no, no."

Letting out a strangled cry, she crumbled against the railing, her hands grasping to hold onto the railing, but she just _couldn't_.


	32. Chapter 32

**[Prompt – The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering. – Ben Okri]**

**Chapter 32**

"I'm – I'm broke," she stammered, clasping a hand to her mouth as soon as she said it, her body trembling in disgust.

Broke?

She was lying, allowing her pride to get the best of her because she'd be damned before Jason Morgan gave her a handout. "That's impossible," he growled, shaking his head when she continued to cry, not understanding what she was saying. "How are you – what the hell did you do with it?"

Her lashes fluttered, failing to hold back her tears, and she licked her lips, trying to find the words. When she finally spoke it was so soft, so quiet like she was terrified. "The Quartermaines – they took it back."

"Wha – what?" he stammered, his fingers curling into his palms. She closed her eyes, willing herself anywhere but in front of him, the truth hurting her as it slipped from her lips, and he had trouble believing everything she was saying.

"They said you weren't of sound mind when you gave me the money," she explained, sounding as though she almost agreed, her breath hitching as she went on about how they were trying to cripple her and, force her to ask them for help.

He shook his head, his eyes scanning the docks as if the reasons why were standing right in front of him. He just couldn't understand why they would do something like this, but he _knew_ it was true. The feeling stirred around in his gut, hitting him in a place he didn't know existedso deep, and he realized he wasn't surprised that his former family would do this.

Forget that Elizabeth had been Jason Quartermaine's wife.

Forget that she was carrying his child.

Forget that she meant something to someone they loved – all because she didn't want anything to do with himthem.

He remembered how the Quartermaines had treated him, how they brought him home and put him in his old room, saying how much he needed them and should could depend on them. They wanted him crippled, wanted him so lost that he had no where else to go because it gave them what they wanted, and now they were trying to do the same thing to her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, barely realizing he'd asked the question. He sounded weak, terrified even, his chest tightening at the thought of her being at their hands without anyone to save her.

At least he'd had Elizabeth when he needed to be saved.

"Why would I tell you?" she asked angrily, her fiery eyes narrowing at his as she wiped the tears from her face. Her chest heaved, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tried not to cry. ""You've made it very clear that this child isn't yours."

This wasn't about the fucking child. It was about her, about that fucking family who ruined everything they touched, and how he could have saved her. "But you – I could – you-"

"I'm nothing too," she interrupted, her hand clasped against her belly as she reminded him of every horrible thing he'd ever said.

He thought they were past that; he'd admitted that she was something, but he just couldn't figure out what. And honestly, he was starting to think that Lila had been onto something, that Elizabeth meant something to him because of who she'd been after the accident. "You're not," he murmured softly, rubbing the side of his head with his fist, that overwhelming sense of loss coming over him, the kind that sent him to her studio that night. "I don't want know what you are."

It was as honest as he'd ever been. He didn't know what she was, but he knew she was something, that there _was_ something here. "I don't – I can get you money."

Her eyes darkened as she rebuffed his orderoffer. "Why would you give me money?"

There were so many reasons; she was his ex-wife, she was having a baby. They were simple. Why did she have to make this so hard? "Because you need it. I have some. You can – can have it."

He thought the offer was what she wanted from him, a way of being there after everything he'd done, but it only hurt her more, and he knew as she spat her words at him that this wasn't about pride. She didn't want money from him because it hurt her, made her feel dirty even, because of the person he'd been.

"I'm just trying to help you," he muttered, taking a deep breath as he rubbed his fists together, trying to fight that familiar feeling of coming apart at the seaems.

She clenched her belly, glaring at him as if to remind him of the baby he seemed so disgusted by. "…and you can be that _worthless_…"

The words had barely left her mouth before he snapped, no longer caring about helping her, but wanting to hurt her as much as she was him. "Fuck you," he interrupted, barreling towards her, but something made him stop, and that only infuriated him even more. "I don't give a damn about what happens to you or your bastard, Eli-" She lunged, her palm striking his cheek so hard the sound bounced off the buildings around himthem.

He felt the strike ring through his ears, felt the sting bleed into the air around him, and all he could think about was how good it felt. Her fists pounding pounded into his chest, the cruel words that slipped from her lips – it all felt right, just like what he deserved.

He didn't hate her. He didn't want her. Except maybe he did – hate her and want her.

And he couldn't stand her or live without her, or maybe he couldn't stand that he couldn't live without her.

He had no fucking idea what he wanted and she was throwing it in his face, trying to hurt him, and failing to see that he _liked_ it.

"You will never be Jason Quartermaine," she hissed, her fists beating against his chest as she sobbed, her wordsthose very words shaking him from his thoughts.

"You don't think I know that?" he cried, wrapping his hands around her wrists and pulling her against him, the reality of the beating setting in.

She had set out to hurt him, to make him feel worthless, and she'd done it, probably without realizing that was his biggest fear. He was never going to live up to the man who he used to be, but he sure as hell wouldn't have it thrown in his face. Her face crumpled as he Yellingyelled at her, reminding he reminded her of all the ways he wasn't the man she'd been married to, letting her see how badly he was disgusted too – that he'd never be who anyone wanted.

He'd always be this angry, this mixed up, and he'd never be capable of being all the things that she wanted, the man that she needed, and he'd never be him, which was really what all this was about.

Wasn't it?

Her wrists twisted in his rough hands, her voice trembling as she asked to be let go. He hesitated,hesitated, only because he wondered if he'd ever get to touch her again, if she'd ever let him this close after tonight.

Now they'd seen one another at their worst; knew their secrets and their fears, the things that kept each other up at night, and just like he'd ran away from her, she would run from him. Again, he'd hurt her over and over, so many times intentionally, and now she'd done the same like it was some fucking game.

Only she was brave enough to end it once and for all.

"I don't want you near me or this baby," she hissed, backing towards the stairs, her words reaching deeper than her physical blows ever could have.

Hadn't he told her this? That she and the baby didn't need him?

Why hadn't she fucking listened? Why hadn't he stayed away?

He hung his head as she started up the stairs, cradling his face in his fists, so angry that he was pretty sure he could tear the damn docks apart with his hands if he allowed himself. Dropping his hands from his face, he watched her hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, her his lips pressed against one another as he fought to speak, but he couldn't.

What was he supposed to say to her now? What could possibly make a difference after everything that had been said and done?

So, he stood there, watching her up the stairs, unable to tear his eyes away from how carefully she moved, how she kept one hand pressed against her stomach – every move she made for this child. It was amazingly selfless, something he was sure he'd never learn, and he envied her ability to live solely for something else.

And then she staggered, the weight of her selflessness bearing down as she let out a strangled cry, one that came ripped from deep within her, but this wasn't one of heartache or frustration – it was pain.

She doubled forward, her purse slipping from her shoulder and falling down the stairs, the leather smacking loudly against the wood, her hand grasping for the railing, but failing to hold on.

Or maybe, she just didn't want to anymore.

He was moving before he realized it, his feet carrying him up the stairs, his arms outstretched as she tumbled backwards, his hands slipping safely beneath her just as her back neared the wooden stairs. She let out a panicked cry, her arms flailing as she tried to pull herself up, but realized she was caught safely, and she let herself fall back, her hands pressing pressed against her stomach.

"Elizabeth," he said thickly, easing her up as he snaked an arm around her waist.

She twisted in his arms, fisting a hand in his t-shirt as she looked up at him with pale blue eyes – it was l pale blue eyes, like all the color had drained away. "It…it hurts," she cried, curling against him as she clenched her side, her entire body trembling in his arms. "The baby…I can't…It hurts…" His arm settled around against her lower back as the other slipped around her waist, his heart skipping a beat when he felt it – the tiny patter against his wrist and then his palm as he laid it flatly against her stomach. "Jason...the baby…not the baby…"

"I'm going to call…for help," he said, pulling his hand away from her stomach to get his phone from his jeans pocket. His fingers trembled as he dialed 911 and he held his breath until the operator picked up.

"What's your emergency?" she repeated several times, as he propped the phone against his shoulder, reaching her for stomach again.

As long as the baby kept moving, that had to mean it was going to be okay.. "Um, a woman – Elizabeth, she's pregnant and she's – I don't know what's wrong."

"Jason," she murmured, pressing her face into his chest as she twisted in his arms, letting out a ragged cry.

He tried to listen to the operator, but couldn't answer her questions, couldn't do anything except watching Elizabeth as she twisted in his arms, clawing at him and begging him to help her.

"Just hurry up," he growled into the phone, swearing when it fell from his shoulder and clamored tumbled down the steps. Elizabeth continued to cry, her chest heaving as she curled into him. His hand moved across her stomach, trying to find the baby, and just when he started to panic, he felt a strong kick against his palm. "Okay, Elizabeth…" He skimmed his hand up her spine to the back of her neck, gently pulling her head back to look at him. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but you need to try and stay calm. You need to breathe. You need to think-"

"Jason," she sobbed, clasping her hand over his as she pressed against her side, her nails digging through his shirt as she held onto him. She tipped her head back, the blues of her eyes even paler than before. "I can't lose this baby. I can't. I know it's all my fault, but I can't."

"Just try and relax," he said, failing to hide the panic in his own voice. "I hear the ambulance now. It's almost here. Just take a deep breath."

"It's my fault," she moaned, her face crumpling.

"No," he argued gently, leaning her head against the railing of the stairs so he could pull his hand from behind her head to wipe away her tears. "This isn't your fault."

"It is," she cried, dropping her hand from his shirt to grip his hand, her fingers curling into the back of it. "I didn't want any of it and now that I do…Jason, my baby has to be okay. It's the only thing I have left."

Her eyes begged him to save her, to do anything to fix this, but he couldn't. "I – I promise you," he said, looking up when he heard the sound of feet on the dock, relieved to see the paramedics. "The baby is going to be fine…and so are you."

"Promise," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she squeezed his hand again, letting out another loud cry.

The medics surrounded them in a hurry asking questions that Jason still didn't know the answer to; how far along, what was the pain like, what was her medical history. Things he should have known – things a husband, a father knew, but he didn't.

They moved quickly and before Jason realized it, they were strapping Elizabeth to a stretcher, telling her to relax, that being upset wasn't going to help the baby. "I'm trying," she cried softly, clutching a hand to her stomach as she lifted her head, craning her neck to find him. "Jason…" Her other hand reached out from the stretcher, seeking his as they started to roll her away, her hand seeking his, and he hurried to step up beside her, breathing for the first time in minutes when their fingers touched. "Jason...what I said…I'm…"

"Don't," he muttered, swallowing hard as he squeezed her hand, nodding to the medics when they reached the ambulance. "You're going to be okay."

Her eyes widened as he let go of her hand and she looked at the two medics, her hand still hanging over the edge of the stretcher as they started to lift her into the ambulance. "Jason…" She sounded so scared, so lost, exactly how he'd felt lately. "He's…"

Jason shrugged, looking at the medics, and finally one gave him an apologetic look. "Only family can ride in-"

"But he's – he's the _father_," Elizabeth cried, lifting her head to look down at him from the ambulance, begging him to not leave her this one time. "Jason…" She let out another sob, one of fear as she let her head fall back against the stretcher, her hands clasping the railings on either side of her as she cried.

The medic looked at him skeptically, but nodded towards the ambulance anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Jason ducked his head, his chest tightening as he uncurled his fists and climbed inside.


	33. Chapter 33

**[Prompt – T****he true measure of a man is not how he stands in a time of peace but where he stands in the times of difficulty.]**

**Chapter 33**

Jason hated hospitals.

The sound of the staff's shoes on the tile flooring, the ridiculous bright lighting, the unsettling hum of machines, and the constant murmurs of everyone in the building – it reminded him of being there, waking up and losing himself, and just sitting in the waiting room had him feeling as if he was crawling out of his skin.

He couldn't stop thinking about how tightly Elizabeth had held his hand, how softly she cried on the stretcher, and how she needed _and_ wanted him to be with her. And then he thought of her being on the other side; in the room with the lighting, the humming machines, and how the doctors and nurses would be murmuring about _her_. The medics had said so many things in the ambulance, mumbled so many words Jason had never heard, but they said she was going to be okay, just like he promised.

"Here." He shook his head at the cup of coffee his boss was holding out to him. Sonny nodded as if that was what he expected Jason to do, but set the cup down on the table beside his chair anyway. "Waiting's always the worst part."

"You sound like you have experience," Jason commented, leaning back in his chairLeaning back in his chair, Jason shrugged and resteding his head against the wall, his eyes narrowed at the door that led to the back of the emergency room.

The medics had wheeled Elizabeth away in a hurry, practically rippinged her hand from Jason's, and he hated that she was back there alone and scared.

Sonny slipped "More than I'd like to," he agreed, shrugging off his suit jacket and tosseding it over the back of a chair before sitting down. "I've sat in this waiting room too many times, m. Mostly because , it was my fault too."

Jason flinched, the statement sounding like an accusation. "You think I did this to her," he said roughly, his eyes never leaving the door.

"No," Sonny replied firmly, shaking his head as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "This – it's a combination of a lot of things; work, stress, exhaustion. You may have wanted to push her away, but you wouldn't want to hurt her or that the baby."

"That's not true," he admitted weakly, recalling every awful thing he had ever said to her. "I – I said so many things. I called the baby a bas…I _wanted_ to hurt her."

"I know," he Sonny said, turning his head towards Jason. "She knows that you say things you don't mean, just like she probably does. Or maybe you do, but you don't mean for them to be as harsh as they sound." Straightening up in his chair, he shrugged. "And she's already forgiven you. Every word exchanged between the two of you was forgotten the moment you stepped up to help her and the baby."

He leaned in towards Jason, his lips curved in a wistful smile. "Actions speak louder than words, especially for someone like you."

Sonny was right; they'd both said so many cruel things, but the moment she needed him, the moment she crumbled, Jason had been right behind her.

Nodding, Jason shifted his eyes back to the doors, waiting impatiently for a doctor, a nurse – _someone_ – to come out and tell him she was okay. "What if she's not – not okay?" he asked quietly, his breath quickening as he kept his eyes on the door, waiting.

"Elizabeth is strong," Sonny replied softly, mostly to himself, obviously aware that she had broken.

Jason wondered if it was scarier for his boss; having, to imagine what Elizabeth had felt, how she would react to losing something else, or if it was worse for him because he'd _seen_ it. Her slender fingers curled into his t-shirt, her drained eyes begging him to make this right, and the gentle bump that came from inside her swollen baby, asking him for help along with its mother. He couldn't explain how it felt or what it meant, but he knew that he'd never been more needed in that moment in his entire life.

"She was scared. I'd seen her upset before, but this…it was like the worst kind of fear I've ever seen." Sonny looked over in surprise when Jason began to talk, his eyes hollow and worried. "I didn't think I'd be able to catch her when she fell. It was like I couldn't move."

"But you did," his boss reminded him, forcing a tired smile. "_You_ saved her."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the door. "I caught her and – and she kept saying it hurt…that it was her fault and then – then I – I felt it." His breath hitched and narrowed his eyes at the door, his chest tightening. "I felt – I felt the baby. I don't know if it was its hands or feet, but it was moving."

Jason's hands dug into the arms of his chair as he remembered how it felt; the soft patter against his palm, the overwhelming innocence that Elizabeth had been trying so hard to protect, and how it had been there – _always_ been there – inside her of her, only he just now seemed to be realizing it.

"Movement is good," Sonny reminded him, clearly not knowing what to say that would help, but feeling like he had to say something.

"Yeah," Jason agreed, swallowing hard as he watched the door. "And then the ambulance came."

Sonny sucked in another heavy breath, one of several in the past few minutes, and Jason knew the more he talked, the more his boss worried, but he had to do something except sit.

And talking to Sonny came so easily.

"Then what happened?" he asked, nudging Jason along with the story as he also also tried to ignore the waiting.

Jason's eyes fluttered closed, remembering her flushed cheeks and pale blue eyes as they lifted her into the ambulance. How she said his name and cried when she didn't think he would come. "They weren't going to let me ride with her…she was upset and she said – she said I was the fath-"

"You son of a bitch!"

Both their heads snapped towards the entrance of the emergency room to see Brenda barreling towards them, Johnny O'Brien right behind her. Neither looked pleased by what was going on, but neither knew what exactly had happened either. Sonny had mentioned he'd sent Johnny to find Brenda, saying she needed to know as Elizabeth's friend, and Jason hadn't pointed out the drama her presence would cause.

Besides, his boss probably already knew.

Sonny hurried to his feet, stepping in front of Jason as if the man needed protection. "Brenda, I get that you're upset, but this is not Jason's fault."

"Not his fault?" she sneered, clenching her fists as she peered around the mobster. "_You_ were with her, which meant you were fighting with her, which means you had upset her, and she was already upset enough over everything going on between you two." She arched her eyebrow pointedly, turning her attention back to Sonny when Jason didn't argue. "See? He doesn't even deny it. He's always _beating_ her down with his words and-"

"Brenda, you need to calm down," Johnny muttered, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder when several of the nurses glared from the hub.

"Calm down?" she hissed, jerking away from his touch, her eyes filling with tears. "Elizabeth – that baby is the only thing she has, Sonny. You know that, I know that, O'Brien even knows itWe all know it, but Jason's too selfish to give a damn-"

"Alright, that's enough," Sonny cut in, holding his hand up and shaking his head.

She stepped forward, narrowing her eyes at the mobster in a way that only Brenda Barrett could and still live to talk about it. "Enough? He's been treating her like shit since he woke up. Making her feel like she did something wrong. Like she knocked herself up. Like she wants to be in this position. And the sad part is the only person she's worried about is him and look what it cost her."

"That was _her_ choice," Sonny defended, not notcingnoticing that Jason had pushed himself out of his chair and was walking away.

Apparently, Sonny was the only one _not_ blaming him.

Swearing under his breath, Jason walked to far side of the waiting room. It wasn't much of a distance, but it was enough. He didn't need to hear about what he'd done to Elizabeth. He was well aware of all the ways he'd hurt her, even more so now that she had snapped and really told him what she thought.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath, reminding himself that now wasn't the time to lose it on anyone. Once he made sure that Elizabeth was okay, he could tell everyone what he really thought, but he wasn't opening his mouth until-

"What do you mean we don't have a right to see her?"

Jason's hands fell to his sides, his fingers curling into his palm as he looked over his shoulder to see Edward Quartermaine harassing one of the nurse's at the hub. She replied to the older man in a quiet voice, refusing to give into his demands, and Edward lost all control.

"She's carrying my great-grandchild," he huffed, smacking his hand on the counter. "I have every right. Do I need to remind you that the Quartermaines practically own this hospital? I could have you fired before-"

"Grandfather, please," AJ murmured, stepping up behind the old man and placing a hand on his shoulder.

He Jason almost laughed at the nerve of the Quartermaines to show up here on tonight of all nights, but he wasn't surprised. They probably had Elizabeth flagged in the system so they would be notified the very moment she was admitted.

"AJ," Brenda called out, abandoning her tongue lashing as she hurried over to the desk.

He looked relieved to see her, obviously hoping she had some kind of information, his face turning hard and tense as Brenda spoke to him. O'Brien cleared his throat and muttered something to Sonny, whose eyes instantly flashed to Jason's. He started towards him, clearly worried that battle lines were already being drawn, but Edward burst out before the mobster could make it over.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped, one hand on his hip as he hobbled over, wagging a finger at his former grandson. "You have some nerve staying around when you did this! If something happens to my great-grandchild, I will see that the authorities-"

"I'm sure you'll see to a lot of things," Jason interrupted, forgetting his vow to stay quiet until he saw Elizabeth. Some things just couldn't go unsaid.

"Well someone has to look out for the wellbeing of that baby!" Edward cried, shaking his head in disgust. "I suggest you leave before I have security throw you out."

"You have no grounds," Sonny spoke up, glaring at AJ when he came up behind his grandfather. "Jason is waiting quietly, like everyone else. That's _his_ child-"

"His child?" the older man laughed, rolling his eyes. "A father is a lot more than a man who gets a woman pregnant." Jason cringed, dropping his eyes to the ground. "So again, I suggest you leave."

"And stay away from Elizabeth," AJ added, looming over Edward's shoulder.

Jason grunted, arching his eyebrows as he lowered himself into the closest seat. Sitting back, he clasped his hands in his lap and stared up at his former family. "I'm not going anywhere."

"This isn't one of your stupid games, Jason," Brenda spoke up, folding her arms over her chest. "This is about Elizabeth and her baby – _real_ lives. They don't need you around."

"But they need the Quartermaines?" he asked, his jaw tightening. "I've been an asshole and I've hurt her feelings, but I haven't taken things from her – things that she needed." He shifted his eyes to AJ and Edward. "Not like you two have."

"Oh, please," Edward hissed, muttering under his breath for AJ to go get security. The dutiful grandson turned around in a hurry, Brenda following after him. Part of Jason hoped that she was going to stop him from causing any trouble, but he couldn't be sure. "You ripped out her heart and stomped on it all across town! Everyone knows how horribly you've treated her! You're _nothing_ to either one of them, so don't act like you're going to be a father now! You kicked her out as soon as you were out of that hospital bed! You wanted nothing to do with her or this baby! I wouldn't be surprised if you shoved her down the damn steps yourself!"

"No, you did that the moment you started harassing her about her baby," he argued, jumping up from his seatchair, prepared to show Edward what real pain was like. Sonny stepped in front of him, holding his hands out, and giving him a look of warninghis hands out as he gave him a look of warning. "I didn't do anything."

"I'm not saying you did," Sonny said seriously.

"You did everything," Edward pressed, throwing his hands up, not caring that a mobster was standing in between them. "Yelling at her. Shoving her around. Treating her like she was _worthless_."

"And you didn't?" Jason asked, stepping around Sonny, who gave up all hope of holding him back. "I'm _not_ Jason Quartermaine. I'm _not_ her husband. So yeah, maybe she is nothing to me, but she was your grandson's wife, and you tossed her out like she was nothing until you found out she was pregnant. And instead of helping her out, you took everything – her namesake, her money, every good memory she had with him was ruined because of you."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," the old man shrugged, looking over his shoulder for AJ, but he was nowhere in sight. Jason couldn't help but notice that Johnny had disappeared too. , which meant that security was definitely not coming.

"I know everything," he replied smugly, leaning in towards him. He'd had far too much time since getting to the hospital to think about what Elizabeth had told him. "You emptied her bank account. You probably fucked with her health insurance, interfered with her apartment hunting, made sure she sold her car for far less than it was worth." His assumptions probably weren't correct, but he'd like to think he was pretty close. " You want her broke, without insurance, and living in a shitty apartment because you think it'll help your case when you try to take the baby from her."

"Elizabeth didn't want any help from us," he Edward said seriously, trying his damnedest not to let Jason get to him, but he was afraid. Jason could see it in his eyes, his tight lips, and how he was slowly backing away. Fear was something he could sniff out on people and Edward Quartermaine was as much of a coward as the rest of them. "And she wasn't entitled to anything simply just because she was Jason Quartermaine's wife."

"Good point," Jason agreed. "Because you're not entitled to anything just because you're the baby's great-grandfather." He paused, lowering his voice. "And if you think I'll let you get within five-hundred feet of that baby, you better think twice. I _suggest_ you don't even try."

"Your grandmother would be disgusted-"

"With me?" Jason interrupted, refusing to back down, even though this would hurt Lila if she ever found out. sighing when AJ stepped up beside him with the security guards. "Wait until she finds out what you did to Elizabeth."

"She'd never believe a worthless, waste-"

"Alright, that's enough," Sonny snapped, stepping in between them again and shaking his head. He looked back and forth between them, trying to act as if he weren't choosing sides, but Jason knew he wanted to wring Edward's neck as badly as he did. "This isn't going to help Elizabeth. The last thing she needs is everyone fighting."

"Don't you act like you know what's good for her Corinthos," Edward spat, jabbing the mobster in the shoulder.

"You sure as hell don't," he cried, finally losing his self-control.

"That's it. I'll get security myself," he muttered, turning around and starting to hobble away.

"Go wave your dollar bills somewhere else," Sonny called after him. "I think you forget who else funds half of this hospital, Mr. Quartermaine. I will gladly take my money _and_ Ms. Webber somewhere else if you have such a problem."

Edward spun around, sputtering incoherently, but Jason ignored him, his eyes snapping towards the doors to the back of the ER. A short, blonde nurse stepped out, one he recognized as Johnny ZacharraZacchara's's girlfriend, and he suddenly worried that his connection to Johnny might not work in his favor. Holding his breath, he watched the nurse stop at the hub, his chest tightening when she started in there direction.

She forced a timid smile as she neared, a chart tucked beneath her arm. He stepped around the old man, his trembling hands in fists at his sideshands trembling at his sides. "Is – is Elizabeth okay?" he stammered, the words catching in his throat.

"She damn well better be!" Edward barked, when he realized the nurse had come over to talk to them. "I want to see her. _Now._ She's going to hear it from me about not taking care of herself and this baby and when she's released-"

"The doctor doesn't want her having any visitors," the nurse interrupted, flinching when he continued his tirade, blaming all of this on Jason. She rocked back and forth on her heels, ignoring Edward as she looked between Jason and Sonny. "But she did ask the doctor for one."

"Aha! Of course, she did!" Edward gleamed, rubbing his hands together. "AJ and Brenda ran off, but I'll be glad to go in their place."

"Actually, she doesn't want to see either of them," the nurse repliedshe replied, almost smugly. Edward looked appalled and again started threatening her, but she just ignored him, her eyes lifting to Jason's with a smile. "She's asking for you."


	34. Chapter 34

**[Prompt – A****nger and resentment can stop you in your tracks. That's what I know now. It needs nothing to burn but the air and the life that it swallows and smothers. It's real, though - the fury, even when it isn't. It can change you... turn you... mold you and shape you into something you're not…anger, like growth, comes in spurts and fits, and in its wake, leaves a new chance at acceptance, and the promise of calm. – The Upside of Anger]**

**Chapter 34**

"I can do that," Elizabeth spoke up, forcing a tired smile at the orderly as she tucked the bed sheets at her sides.

She nodded and stepped away from the bed, looking confused at what she should do next. "Well, if you need anything-"

"I have my button," she cut in, holding up the small electronic remote.

The orderly nodded again, backing towards the door and slipping into the hallway almost skittishly. Elizabeth sank back against her pillow, basking in what little silence filled the room. She was hooked up to a handful of machines, one that monitored her heartbeat as well as the baby's, and another to trackt her contractions should they start again. The doctors and nurses had poked, prodded, and medicated her, saying that she and the baby should be fine for the rest of her pregnancy, but there was always a chance.

That chance was going to stress her out for the next few months.

Sighing, she smoothed her hand over her belly, watching anxiously through the window that led to the hallway, and wondered if Jason was coming. Dr. Lee had advised against visitors, ordering her to just rest, but Elizabeth couldn't leave Jason hanging. He'd saved her life and their child's, and even though a tiny part of her believed he'd done his good deed and left, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was waiting for her.

After all, he'd done what he needed to; stayed by her side and dialed 911. He didn't have to get inside the ambulance. Just like he didn't have to hold her hand the entire way to the hospital, his eyes never leaving her face.

It was terrifying to have had him there – something she'd wanted for so long, and now…well, she just wasn't sure where things went from that moment.

She perked up when she heard footsteps in the hallway, wishing that her bed had been closer to the window, but she didn't have to wait long. Jason stopped outside her doorway, nodding as Dr. Lee spoke to him just as Elizabeth asked. She wasn't sure if she could explain everything without getting upset. The doctor could make a high blood pressure mixed with a little Braxton Hicks sound like nothing, but she'd never forget how it felt, even though she knew her panicked reaction hadn't helped the situation.

Dr. Lee peeked into the room as Jason walked in, giving Elizabeth a warm, but stern smile before slipping back into the hall. Everyone in town knew about her relationship with Jason, so naturally the doctor worried about how intense the situation could become. And their argument hours before had shown just how bad things could get between them.

He cleared his throat, checking over his shoulder to see if the doctor had left, and looked back at Elizabeth with an awkward shrug.

"Dr. Lee – did she explain – explain everything?" Elizabeth she stammered, smoothing her hands over the thin sheets.

"Braxton something," he nodded, cracking his knuckles as he walked over to the chair beside her bed.

"Yeah, bed rest for the next couple of days, limited work – just a few hours a day…" She trailed off, not bothering to list all the reasons why this wasn't going to work. Or that her health insurance was a mess right now, so she couldn't actually afford to stay in the hospital.

"You don't have to worry about anything," he Jason said stiffly, sitting on the edge of his chair as if he didn't know how to be comfortable.

She was too tired to fight his handouts, or maybe, part of her was touched that he was willing to help out, regardless of the reasons.

"Well, I – I just wanted you to know that I'm okay – the baby too." She shifted uncomfortably against the pillows as she looked at her hands, almost afraid to look at him, and though she wasn't really sure why.

"I'm… – I'm glad," he stutteredreplied, groaning under his breath at how flustered he was acting.

"Jason…" Taking a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to his as they pooled with tears, d. She damnedamning her hormones and mixed emotions as she wiped them them with her fingertips. "Tha-thank you…for sav-"

"I didn't do anything," he interrupted quietly, his face tensing as she continued to cry. "Are you – should I get the nurse?"

"No, no," she said firmly, holding her hand out for him to stop when he pushed himself up from his chair. "Really, I'm fine. I just – sometimes I cry for no reason."

"Or you cry _for_ a reason," he murmured, swallowing hard as he watched her. "Is it me? I can go now that I know you're-"

"Do you want to go?" she cut in, dropping her hand back to her lap. His jaw ticked, and she imagined the mean replies turning in his head, but he said nothing. "What happened tonight isn't your fault, Jason."

His eyes flashed with surprise, maybe a little relief, but he looked away as if he didn't want her to see. "It's not yours either."

She grunted, rolling her eyes when the tears continued to fall. "You don't know the half of it." Hanging her head, she shrugged, her stomach churning as the walls closed in around her. "Everything that's happened is _my_ fault." He started to argue, but she shoved her hair out of her face and looked up at himtopped when she nearly glared at him. "Don't – everyone acts like I'm a saint in all of this, but I did so much of it, and tonight – well, I always knew karma was going to get me."

Suddenly, she fell back against her pillows, her hands over face, unable to hold it in any longer. The accident – how she'd asked Jason to go after AJ. The pregnancy she never wanted – how she'd tried twice to abort it but couldn't go through with it. The overall state of her life – how nothing was the way it was supposed to be. And worst of all – how she sometimes found herself relieved that she'd been able to break free.

All the anger, the resentment, the overwhelming spite she'd had for her life had built up to this very moment. It was like every part of her was a thread, being pulled in all different directions, and tonight every side had won out, tearing her apart like they'd been trying to do for so long.

"Elizabeth…" Jason hesitated next to her bed, his hands reaching for her, and then falling back to his sides. She felt ridiculous, especially because he probably thought it was her fault. "You need to – to calm down." His eyes lifted to the machines on the other side of the bed, grimacing as one beeped loudly. "That can't be good. I'm going to get the-"

"No," she hissed, wiping her face with the back of her hands. "It's just the baby…" She took a deep breath and willed herself to stop crying. "I'm fine. It's the baby's heartbeat. It sounds like it's really fast, but it's okay."."

"But it's okay?" he asked, furrowing his brow at the quick beat. She nodded, holding a hang hand against her chest as she took a deep breath, refusing to cry. "Are you…" He never finished the question, taking his seat again insteadtaking his seat again instead, and she almost told him he didn't have to stay, but she knew it didn't matter.

If he didn't want to be there, he would have been long gone, so she fumbled for the button to the bed, lowered it back and closed her eyes, hoping her brief breakdown would be forgotten.

She must have fallen asleep because the next time she opened her eyes the room was darker, dimly lit by the ceilinga little darker, the door pushed closed, the only light coming from one dim bulb in the ceiling. Yawning, she reached for the remote, her bed rising as she pressed a button, and when she remembered Jason, she looked over, surprised to find him still sitting in his chair.

"Hey," he said softly, pushing himself up in a hurry. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," she Elizabeth smiled tiredly, yawning again as she reached for the tray that had been left beside her bed. She poured herself a glass of water with a shaky hand and took a long sip before she looked back overlooking back over at him. "I told you I'm okay."

He Jason nodded, looking anything but convinced, his fear of upsetting her having total control over him. She imagined that seeing her cry hadn't helped matters and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel sorry for her.

"I am," she repeated earnestly, setting the pink cup back onto the tray. "I've just been under a lot of…stress." Pausing, she laughed. "As if you didn't know that."

Shrugging, she pushed herself up and sighed softly, her nap having sufficed for the time being. She felt refreshed, a little renewed, but neither feeling could shake the fear of what could have happened tonight.

Jason looked awkward as if he didn't know what to say, and she found herself too nervous too look in his direction, afraid that he might see something she didn't want him to see see.

"Look," he started, sitting up on the edge of his chair, nervously his fingers tappingtapping his fingers nervously against the chair armson the armrests. "It's – it's not your fault."

She started to argue, but just sighed to herself – something he was realizing she did quite often, and laid back against her pillows.

After a few minutes her head rolledshe rolled her head in his direction, her eyes hesitantly lifting to his. She was tired – of carrying the weight of her life, of keeping secrets from herself and those around her. For once, she just wanted to be honest with _someone_. "

"Can I – can I tell you a secret?" she asked, regretting the question the second it left her lips. Now she had to say something.

He nodded slowly. "Whatever you want to tell me, you can." She smiled softly, remembering her promise that he could always come to her, and something told her there wouldn't might not always be a two-way street between them. This moment was definitely a rarity.

"I, uh, I never wanted this baby," she whispered, clasping her hand to her mouth at the confession.

It was the truth, raw and real, open and honest – something she'd been fighting with herself over for the past few months now. And nNow that she'd said it aloud she felt angry, cruel even, and she had the desire to break something, anything that might make that pain go away.

"What?" he asked, not quite understanding.

She pushed herself up, hanging her head as smoothed a hand over her belly. "I didn't want this baby," she repeated, louder this time as if she were trying to hurt herself by saying it. "Jason – he wanted kids, but I didn't feel like I was ready. And then I went for a regular checkup, found out I was pregnant, and the night that I was going to tell him…I sent him after his drunk brother…the accident…you…"

"And instead of being happy that I had a part of him, I didn't want it," she continued, pausing when she stared to cry a little harder. She lifted her hand to her chest, jabbing herself hard several times, desperately wanting to feel something. "I wanted to get rid of it. I wanted it out of me." She tipped her head towards him, but didn't look at him, obviously because she because just _couldn't_. "I even went to get an abortion…twice."

He didn't say anything, not really believing what she was telling him, and finally she laughed to herself as she tucked her head hair behind her ear, lifting her eyes to his. "You can't even believe it, can you?" she asked, not bothering to wipe away her tears. She repeated it one more time for good measure – or maybe she just wanted to twist the knife in a little deeper. "I didn't want it."

"Then why did you keep it?" he asked simply. he asked.

It was an simpleeasy question, one she didn't always understand the answer to, because she'd had the opportunity to be free, but…she just couldn't go through with it.

"I remember standing in the room at the clinic, thinking about Jason, how he would hate me if I got rid of his child – the one thing he wanted so much. And then I realized I had a reason to live. I had a baby, a new life…and you. I didn't know where we were going to end up, but I couldn't risk having to tell you that I got rid of – of _your_ child." She was relieved when he didn't cringe or even look the slightest bit annoyed, but then again, this was Jason. Who knew what he was thinking on the inside?

"Sometimes I think that I got lucky, that I lost that overbearing life that I took on because I was in love." She shrugged. "Even if things have been really rough lately, I've never been happier. Isn't that the most terrible thing you've ever heard?"

The way he looked at her, so emotionless, made her feel hollow.

Maybe sShe shouldn't have told him about the accident or the baby or how she secretly enjoyed her new life, despite how hard it was. She would always live with sending Jason after AJ, , how she had begged him to be good to his brother, and how it cost him his life. And she would regret resenting his desire to have a baby and trying to avoid getting pregnant, just as she would always hate that she'd cried out of anger the entire drive home after learning about the babyshe was pregnant.

"I loved my husband so much," she added guiltily. "So much that I can't breathe sometimes when I think about it."

There was no doubt in her mind that Jason would have been a good father, incredible, perfect even, but the more she fought the Quartermaines, the more she realized what her life would have been.

Hired nannies, demanding grandparents, and the constant berating that she wasn't good enough. They would have sucked any excitement out of her that she had about being a mother out of her, and lately all she could think about was thatshe'd been thinking about how she didn't _have_ to be around them., and that asAs long as she did her best to take care of her baby, they would have no grounds to try and fight her for it.

"I think of how he wanted this baby," she added, shaking her head, "and how I didn't. Except now I do and it's not with him…so yeah, I _deserve_ this." She'd been determined to be the best possible mother she could be and look at where it'd gotten her. What kind of woman wanted her husband more after he'd lost his entire memory than the one who had created a life with her? "I lost everything and sometimes the only thing I feel is _relief_. Because now my life is _mine_ and before it was just…someone else's."

"I don't know what to say," he admitted., trying to wrap his head around everything

She wasn't .

She wasn't sure if she wanted him to say anything, especially considering that she'd just confessed who she really wanted, and that it was wanted – _him_. him.

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense, and she'd had plenty of time alone to think lately.

She hadn't been able to walk away from Jason, to give up on him despite what she told herself, and always found herself drawn to him, craving any emotional reaction he gave. She spent years as the dutiful wife, never spoke up and never talked back, and whenever she started to show the slightest bit of displeasure, Jason Quartermaine made sure to appease her immediately.

It wasn't like her marriage was bad or unrealeven difficult. It was love in the truest of forms, but so much of Jason's life was his family, regardless of how overbearing and controlling they were. He worried not only about her feelings, but everyone around him, and he was so busy taking care of everyone else that he often didn't care of himself. Everyone in his life was supposed to be happy and have everything they wanted. He blamed himself when they didn't because he was just that type of person. It was one of the many qualities she'd admired and adored, one that had probably made her fall so in love with him.

When her husband became Jason Morgan, someone who never cared about feelings, she found something enthralling in him. Unlike everyone around her, he wasn't afraid to speak up and tell hersay what he really thought, even if it was some distorted version of the truth, but at least he had the nerve. The truth was always on the tip of his tongue, and he wasn't afraid to give it to people like Edward Quartermaine. JasonHe told her what he really thoughtnever hid his feelings from her. Sure, he, yelled at her, shoved her around, and basically spit in her face, and but as ridiculous as it sounded, fighting with him made her feel alive, made her feel real. .

And earlier on the docks when they'd been fighting, and she'd been hitting him, she was mostly furious that he was never going to want her or this baby. He, and that he really did torture her because he liked it, not because he felt something tootortured her, not because he liked it, but because he _felt_ something – something he would never act on. And it infuriated her to no end.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, her shoulders sagging in defeat as she fell back against the bed.

And Only this time, she didn't cry.

**********

Jason sat stiffly on the edge of his chair, unsure of what to say or do, or whether he should even stay in the room. Minutes had passed by, maybe even an hour since her surprising confessions, and he'd yet to find a response, which was a new feat seeing as he always had a reply, even if it was nasty and rude.

This, however, deserved more than the typical response.

Something fluttered in his chest as he looked over at her, her dark lashes fluttering as she tried to pretend she was sleeping, but they both knew it was going to be a little while before there was any peace now. She'd told him everything, every truth that she had hidden for the past few months, and he'd just sat there.

At least now it made sense, how she kept saying it was her fault, how she begged him to save her baby even though she'd done this, and he hated that she blamed herself. For what? Sending her husband after his brother? Being afraid of being a mother? Wanting him?

Jason should have wanted to help AJ – isn't that how brothers worked? And Elizabeth wasn't the one who failed to fasten his seatbelt the night of the accident. Just like she couldn't help that she wasn't ready to have a child, which her husband probably knew, and still,but he pressured her anyway. And he supposed that she couldn't help wanting him now, even though he didn't quite understand it.

He was nothing like Jason Quartermaine, but perhaps that was the appeal. They were drawn to one another for reasons he didn't quite understand, but he was realizing this was about more than Jason Quartermaine.

He liked who Elizabeth was after the accident. How she was patient and kind and didn't look at him and expect him to remember his life in a moment's notice.

Perhaps she liked who he was too. He didn't expect things from her or treat her like she wasn't worthy – at least not at first.

They were two people whose lives were suddenly open books, only hers weighed more than his, and she'd hoped that maybe he could carry her along, instead the very second things became too heavy he dropped her.

She Elizabeth shifted in her bed, looking away when his eyes lifted to find her looking at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes tired, and he could live with seeing her so tense as long as she wasn't crying.

"You – you don't have to stay," she said softly, carefully pushing herself up and reaching for her cup of water.

A nurse had stopped in a little bit ago to check on her, informing them both that Elizabeth was doing really well, as was _their_ baby. He'd just nodded, too dazed and confused from everything she had said before, but the idea of it being theirs – of him being a father – it made his stomach churn. He'd bit his tongue so hard that he nearly drew blood to stop himself from saying anything to the nurse.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. She didn't say anything, so he leaned back in his chair, and then sat forward again. Finally, he scooted his chairit closer to the side of her bed. "Why – why did you tell me all of this?"

Her lips trembled as she held the cup against her them, biding her time as she took a long sip. "I – I don't know," she shrugged, resting the cup against the bump of her bellyher round belly. "You saved me – _us_ tonight. You called 911 and waited for the ambulance. And you came with me…and you waited." Shrugging again, she lifted her eyes to his, and he was relieved with all the color that he saw in them, all the life. "You didn't have to do any of that, but you did."

It was his turn to shrug, his failed attempt at indifference because now she realized he felt something, and that he stayed with her for a reason. Her eyes held the question before she ever asked. "I don't know why," he answered, dropping his eyes to the floor.

"You're not the type do things without knowing why," she murmured, not meaning to press him, and she flinched when his glaring eyes flashed back to hers.

"I don't know why," he repeated roughly, surprised by his own anger, but knew it was because he wasn't ready for this.

This conversation.

This entire eveninglife.

This very moment.

"I don't," he insisted, pushing himself up from his chair, torn between staying and leaving. She always found a way to get beneath his skin, to make him want to stay and run so fast at the same time. "I just – I saw you fall. You were trying to hold on, but you couldn't, and the baby…" He trailed off as he paced back and forth beside her bed. "You – you needed someone – _me_."

The corners of her mouth curved in a smile. "I did," she said, sucking in a breath at the admission. ."

She smoothed her hand over the sheet, her hand resting resting it against her belly, and he found himself listening to the sound of its heartbeat from one of the machines. He'd been listening to it a lot tonight, the constant sound soothing amidst the tension between them.

"What I said," she started, watching him closely as he continued to pace. "I didn't-"

"You did," he interrupted firmly, swallowing hard as he looked at her. "I did. We meant what we said, but…it's okay."

There was no sense in taking back what they had said. It was harsh, maybe even a little cruel, but it was the truth. And for people like them, who'd lost everything, the truth was all that mattered.

_The truth. _

Maybe that was why she'd told him everything.

So much of this battle between them had been about finding the truth. About what was real and what wasn't and how they were supposed to exist among it.

Elizabeth had everything; a life so real and vivid that she'd thrown every part of herself into it. And what did he have? An empty space instead of a lifetime of memories and a surge of anger that ripped through him when he thought about how he didn't have a clue as to what life was about.

The truth, be it what she had lied to herself about it, or how he rejected everything he once was to become something else – either way, the truth was all they really had.

"I – I have to tell you something," he said, still pacing beside her bed, his trembling hands curling into fists at his sides.

He didn't know why he was going to do this, but after everything she'd told him, it only seemed fair.

And for once, he cared about being fair.

"You can tell me anything," she replied earnestly, pulling her lower lip back and forth between her teeth. She was nervous, not that he could blame her. Every time he let himself go with her, he ended up hurting her. "Jason, it's okay."

He stopped near the head of her bed, her body less than a foot away from his, and he found himself wanting to touch her so that she'd feel how nervous he was too. "You – you were honest with me tonight. Maybe you didn't want to be. Maybe I forced you to tell me things. Or maybe you just wanted me to know."

"Maybe it's all three," she spoke up, looking up at him withgiving him a smile before turning to put her cup back on the tray.

The moment seemed slow as she turned her back to him,, her turning her back to him a, and while it was probably the worst time to say anything, it was easier than looking her in the face. "I knew about the baby," he said, watching her shoulders tense. Her hand lingered on the tray as if it were holding her up. When she didn't turn around, he felt some strange need to elaborate. "I knew – the day you took me to the penthouse – you left. I was angry. I – I found the rattle and I-"

"You knew?" she cried, snatching the pitcher of water as she turned to look at him, the container flying from her hand without so much as a second thought. He barely side-stepped it, and it busted against the wall with enough fury to leave the side cracked as water pooledand water pooling across the floor, more than getting her point across. She was breaking all over again; eyes dark and face flushed, the familiar face of anger he was used to. "You knew? You treated me so horribly. Made me feel like I was so wrong for lying to you. You son of a bitch! Why would you do something like that?"

Grimacing, he hung his head as she yelled at him, again debating whether or not he should leave.

"Why, Jason?" she asked, smacking her hand against the mattress. One of the machines behind her beeped louder than it had before, but she paid it nono attention it. "You – you made me feel so terrible. God, you're – you're just like – like-"

"Like who?" he growled, daring her to compare him to the Quartermaines or anyone else. He was _nothing_ like them.

"You know damn well who," she hissed, gritting her teeth as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I can't believe you. Out of all the things you've done this is the worst. How could you know about this baby and treat me like this? Are you really that heartless? Why?" His fists tightened as he sank his teeth into his tongue. "This is worse than anything-"

"Stop," he spat, gently beating his fists against his sides. "Just stop."

"Why? Because it makes you feel bad?" she asked, turning around to grab the cup from the tray and throwing it at him, followed by the vase of flowers Sonny had sent up from the gift shop. "Because you hate that hurt me? You knew what you were doing the entire fucking time and you could have stopped it, but you kept going. You kept pushing me and calling my baby names and…" Her voice broke and she tried to bite back a sob, but it came out strangled and exhausted. "God, I hate you. Just go. Get out. I can't even look at-"

"Why do you think I did it, Elizabeth?" he interrupted angrily, his eyes flashing to hers. She was crying almost as hard as she had been on the docks, but this was different. This was the kind of ache and pain that couldn't be fixed by a doctor or even a touch. "Why did you lie? Why didn't you tell me I was your husband?" You were afraid."

"That's different," she murmured softly, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"Different than what? Waking up and not knowing who you are? Having the one person who knows you, who you trust tell you they've been lying-"

"It's a different kind of lie!" she cried exhaustedly, cradling her face in her hands.

"I was…" He shook his head, that familiar ache creeping through him, emptying him from the inside out, and leaving him hollow, but just this once he didn't want it to win. "I was _scared_, Elizabeth." He sank down in the chair beside her bed, his own admission leaving him exhausted. "I knew one thing for sure and it was _you_. And the moment I picked up that baby rattle, I didn't – everything was lost. You were someone else's wife, carrying someone else's child."

"I was so angry," he continued, looking up at her, surprised to find that she was looking back at him. Tears were still slipping down her cheeks, but her eyes – t, thosee deep pools of blue – w were filled with understanding. "I didn't understand why, but I just remember holding that rattle…I told myself I hated you, that you were like everyone else."

"That's expected, I guess," she whispered, gently wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"I don't even know how I became so angry." He shook his head, disgusted with himself. "Nothing was right. Nothing fit. And it was easier than anything else." Leaning forward, he held his head in his hands, telling himself it was okay to let everything go. It was just like that night when he'd gone to see her at her studio. She was safe, even if he didn't know why, and she would never hold this against him. "I hurt you over and over, trying to make myself feel better about how I was hurting – and I – Elizabeth, I just don't want to be angry anymore."

He flinched when he felt a hand rakeing through his hair, shivering as her fingers settled against the back of his neck. Her other slipped below his chin, tipping her face back to look at him. She stroked his chin with her thumb, sucking in a breath when he lifted his hands to her waist.

"I – I don't want to be angry either," she murmured softly, her thumb smoothing over his lower lipsmoothing her thumb over his chin. "And we-"

Elizabeth's head suddenly jerked towards the door, her cheeks flushing as she backed towards the bed, and Jason suddenly realized all the beeps that were going off from the machines. Dr. Lee came barreling into the room, followed by several nurses. There was no heartbeat for her or the baby; so naturally, they'd thought something had happened.

"Sorry," Elizabeth apologized, lifting herself back into bed, and cringing as the nurses frantically hooked her back up to the machines.

Dr. Lee grinned from the doorway, shifting her eyes back and forth between Jason and Elizabeth. Before she could say anything, her paged beeped, and she muttered something about checking back in soon.

"I'm really sorry," Elizabeth repeated, cringing as one of the nurse's noticed the mess on the floor from the water pitcher and vase. "I…had a little accident." The nurse looked anything but amused and started over to clean it up, muttering something about visiting hours being over. Jason glanced at Elizabeth as he got up from his chair, but she shook her head, one of her hands flying off the bed to reach for him. "No, don't leave."

He hesitated, watching the nurse pick up the pitcher and several large pieces of glass, saying something about getting a janitor as she left the room.

"Don't," she begged, sighing when the nurse tucked her sheets in at her sides. "We still have so much to talk about."

"I don't think you need to be doing any talking," the nurse chimed in, tapping the blood pressure machine at her bedside. "It's high. Dr. Lee is not going to be pleased if you're company-"

"He's not," Elizabeth interrupted, shaking her head at the nurse. "I...just got a little excited." Her cheeks flushed when the nurse gave her a knowing smile, clearly thinking it was something else that had gotten her excited. "I'll be good, I promise."

Nodding, the nurse wrote something into Elizabeth's her chart and started for the door.

"I upset you," he said, glancing at the machine on the other side of the bed. He read the numbers and watched the thin lines spike up and down, but had no idea what didn't know anything about what they meant.

"You didn't," she replied, carefully rolling onto her side so that she was facing him. She rubbed her cheek against her pillow, her eyelids heavy as she looked at him. Her hand snaked across the sheet, hanging over the edge of the bed, her fingers fluttering in the air. "Jason…"

Swallowing hard, he scooted his chair forward. "Just get some rest, okay?" he murmured, lifting his hand to hers.

Their fingertips brushed against one another, and then one of them – he wasn't sure who – really reached, linking their fingers together before the other could pull away. It was the kind of touch that took his breath away. The kind that made everything seem right.

"Jas…" She trailed off, her lashes fluttering. "We have to talk about this."

"We will," he replied, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand. Her skin was like velvet, her hand so small against in his, and he thought that just maybe this was what he'd been missing along. "Just get some rest. I'm not going anywhere."


	35. Chapter 35

**[Prompt – There is something real between us and it doesn't matter why it started. We have to decide what to do with it." - Jason Morgan, 2001]**

**Chapter 35**

Sighing, Sonny leaned against the small window that peered into Elizabeth's room, his chest tightening at the sight of the small brunette curled up on her side in the hospital bed. She looked smaller and frailer than he remembered, and he wondered if like everyone else, he'd absentmindedly overlooked just how tired and worn out the young woman was.

Sitting in the waiting room tonight had been the most exhausting thing he'd done in years. He was used to facing life and death in his line of work, but this was so different. She was a mother now, out to protect her child even if it meant hurting herself, and he was terrified at what losing that baby would have done to Elizabeth.

And mostly also that everyone would have blamed Jason.

The man was carrying enough on his shoulders as it was, and it was obvious that even Jason even believed that tonight may have been his fault. Sonny was relieved when he stayed, when he walked back to that hospital room with the nurse, his head held high because Elizabeth had wanted to see him.

As if on cue, Jason looked up from the side of the bed where he'd been sitting for the past couple of hours, and immediately stood when he saw Sonny standing in the hallway. Elizabeth stirred in the bed as if sensing he was going to leave and Jason leaned over her, squeezing his her hand as he spoke, and Sonny was surprised by the amount of tenderness the usually bitter man was finally showing.

Like Sonny had hoped, tonight had been a wake up call. Jason may have fought with her Elizabeth every chance he had, but the possibility of not fighting with her had stirred up some kind of feelings, the kind that he'd been running from for months now.

"How is she?" Sonny asked, backing away from the window when Jason stepped into the hallway.

"Tired," he replied, pulling the door closed behind him. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over to the window, watching her through it. "She's okay though, the baby too."

"And you?" he asked, stepping up beside him, not surprised when Jason didn't answer. "This has been hard on you too. How are you doing?"

"It was harder on her," he shrugged, his shoulders sagging exhaustedly.

"It was hard on both of you," Sonny corrected, folding his arms over his chest. "You've both been through your own personal versions of hell. I assume what you said to Edward earlier was true – about the money. Elizabeth had come to me for legal help, for a loan, but I didn't know what kind of trouble she was in."

Had he known, Edward Quartermaine wouldn't have had a chance in hell at getting a damn thing from her, and Elizabeth had probably known that Sonny would have done anything for her, which was precisely why she kept things so quiet. She made it look like it was more of a custody issue, something that he knew Diane could easily handle.

"No one did," Jason replied, shaking his head in disgust, the as that familiar darkness returning to his eyes at the thought of what had been done to her. "She wanted to handle it on her own. She wanted to make things work for herself.… She lost everything. And I was just so…angry. I made it worse for her and-"

"You can't think about that," he Sonny interrupted, turning towards him.

There was no doubt that something was going to come from this. Jason was still here, still waiting, still worried about her, and that was all the hope Sonny needed. It wasn't about whether or not they ended up together or if Jason was going to be a father. There was a kind of peace they could find in one another that they needed to move on with their lives.

"Things have been really bad between you two for the past few months, but you're here. She's here. You saved her and the baby," Sonny added, hoping that they could focus more on the now and not the circumstances that led them here.

"She was really good to me after I woke up," Jason said quietly, his eyes softening as his jaw slacked, and Sonny thought this was the first time he'd actually seen the man so relaxed. "She didn't want me to be someone I couldn't remember, but I wasn't her husband, and she was having a baby with him."

"Maybe you're focusing too much on it being Jason Quartermaine's child," he pointed out, shrugging halfheartedly. "Sure, she and Jason wanted the baby, and they were planning on it, and then you woke up and didn't remember any of that. I get that a lot of people differentiate between the two of you – some even act like he died, but that doesn't change that you just woke up as someone else, Jason. That a part of you was Jason Quartermaine and that part of you is what made that baby."

"I don't know the first thing about being a father," Jason muttered, frowning heavily as he watched her sleep. "I don't know how to love someone, what it means, or how to take care of another person. And I can't mess things up for her, not after all of this."

"I used to think the same thing," he replied sadly, knowing that now wasn't the time to go into his own past.

How his father abused his mother. How he was so afraid of inflicting the same abuse on his own child. How a woman had stolen his heart long ago and nearly had his child, except that a tragedy had changed the course of their lives, leaving him alone.

It wasn't the same situation as Jason's, but Sonny knew theat dark place that existed. The one that was hollowed out by anger and resentment, the frustration that nothing in life made sense and that he'd taken a chance to become something he didn't think he could, only to lose it.

"But eventually, you'll learn things," Sonny said seriously, nodding at Elizabeth as she lay in the bed. "You took care of her tonight. You were scared for her and that baby, Jason. That's the first step. The rest is up to you."

Jason sucked in a breath, his eyes narrowing at her through the window. "What if I hurt her even more? Or what if it just doesn't work out?"

"Then," Sonny answered, clapping him on the shoulder, "you do what I do. You tell yourself you at least tried. No one – not God, the woman you care about, the child, or yourself – no one can hold trying against you."

**********

"Elizabeth," Brenda sighed, shaking her head as she sat beside her best friend's bed, her eyes filled with tears after hearing the ugly truth of what had been going on. "I'm so sorry. I should have been here for you. I shouldn't have taken their side last night.…,," She trailed off, so furious with herself after being told what exactlyexactly what the Quartermaines were doing, and how much it had been stressing Elizabeth out.

"Don't," she groaned, pushing herself up in bed. "I kept it to myself, but there's no point now. I can't hide the fact that I do need help anymore. I thought I could do it on my own, but…"

"You know that whatever you need," Brenda said, gently wiping her eyes. At least now, so much about of Elizabeth's life made sense; her long hours, the once dumpy apartment that she Brenda had helped turn into a pretty fabulous apartment for her friendplace, and the stress of not over spending a single penny. "If it's money or food or baby things – Jax and I are more than happy to help you out. We're in the position to give you whatever you need."

"I don't want to take anything from you guys unless I _really_ have to," she replied, her tone stern and serious. "I have a lot of money saved, most of which is probably going to be gone once I actually start buying things for the baby, but Jason said he would help out."

"Elizabeth," she murmured nervously, scooting her chair closer to the bed.

It wasn't that she disliked the idea of Jason stepping up and caring for his child, but she worried about what it would do to her friend. Elizabeth had wanted this all along, to be with him in some way, to have him in her life, but what if it backfired? Could she take that kind of heartache once again? Elizabeth had been through a whirlwind of emotions as it was; constantly holding on and fighting for and never seeing the possibility that she might lose Jason for good.

"It's different now, Bren," she said wistfully, smoothing her hand over her stomach. "He saved me and the baby. He sat in this room all night, barely left my side. And I think that we finally see one another – that we're not angry and bitter."

"In one night?" Brenda asked unconvinced, but it was like her to be the one to question romance.

After all, she was the one who counted Jason out from the second he started treating Elizabeth horribly, and her friend had held on, saying that he needed her, and strangely enough Elizabeth had ended up needing him. And he'd been there, but did that change what's happened in the plast few months?

"I can't explain it," Elizabeth shrugged, smiling with tired eyes. "You know that I love Jason so much, and there is nothing I wouldn't have done for him, right?"

"Of course," she Brenda said, pushing herself up from the chair and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "There is no one who knows how much you loved him better than I do. Hell, I might have even known it better than he did."

She laughed, rolling her eyes, but obviously not surprised by Brenda's smug answer. "Good, because there's this part of me that really thinks I love Jason Morgan too – or that I could – I don't know." She groaned in frustration. "It's just – before all the secrets and the lies, all the anger, he knew who I was. He looked at me and he saw me for more than Jason Quartermaine's trophy wife-"

"Aw, honey," she cut in, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

Brenda always knew how frustrated Elizabeth was with the Quartermaines. She had lived with them for a while and knew how insane they were and how it was all about their family name and how they appeared to the public eye. So much of that attitude was bred into AJ and Jason, more so AJ, which was why she knew that Elizabeth was a perfect match from for Jason from the moment she met herthey became friends.

She could bring out a wild streak in him, make him do and feel things he never had before, but it still didn't change that Jason's family always came first. He was a Quartermaine through and through and loving Elizabeth had been difficult because his family reacted so ridiculously to her.

"I don't want to sound like I'm damning my marriage to Jason," Elizabeth murmured, wiping away a few tears as they slipped from her eyes. "It still hurts so much to know that I am never going to have him back, but then I look at Jason, and we have moments where we connect and we understand each other despite how complicated things are and…"

"You want him too," Brenda nodded, amazed at how easily Elizabeth could separate the two men who existed within the same person, only one was now lost forever. She could see the guilt in Elizabeth's eyes, the pain she carried over finding peace with what had happened, and those were the last emotions she should have right now. "I think it's amazing, really, even if it scares the hell out of me because no offense, but I don't trust Jason as far as I can throw him-"

"You couldn't even throw him," she interrupted dryly, laughing in a way that let Brenda know Elizabeth understood exactly where she was coming from.

"I don't want you to get your heartbroken again," she explained, sighing as she looked her friend in the eyes, amazed at the strength Elizabeth had. "You believed in Jason when no one else did. He was my best friend and I gave up on him, especially after he woke up, but you always believed."

"Not always," she murmured quietly, dropping her gaze to her lap. "I even had a few moments where I didn't believe at all, where I almost gave up entirely…"

"But you didn't," Brenda reminded her with a grin. "You always believed he would come back to you and you accepted the person he came back as." Shrugging, she held up her hands. "And if you think there's a chance that you and Jason could be together – that you could find a way now, then you'd be crazy not to try."

Part of her couldn't deny the romantic aspect of it all; to lose a husband, for him to come back as a different person, and still find love all over again.

And if Jason broke her Elizabeth's heart, then she'd Brenda would just have to make sure he paid. He could have a free pass for the first round, but the second was fair game.

"That's what I keep telling myself," Elizabeth said, sounding relieved to have moral support. "I owe it myself, to Jason, to this baby. Sometimes the most beautiful things start ugly. All I can do is try and if Jason decides this isn't what he wants or it isn't going to work for him – or if I decide it's not going to work, I'll be okay with that."

Brenda wasn't too sure about Elizabeth being okay if things didn't work out, but that's where she came in. "And if you're not," she replied, pulling her into a hug, "I'll just have to buy you bigger diamonds and more ice cream."

**********

Frowning, Elizabeth flipped through the channels on the television, finally turning it off just as the door to her room opened. "Hey," she smiled timidly as Jason came into the room, carrying a large paper bag.

It was hard not to be nervous around him after such a heated confrontation and understanding the night before. There had been so many walls put up between the two of them, and while they'd been cracking for months, last night they tumbled down completely. There was so much relief in their honesty as well as fear because Elizabeth had no idea what was going to happen now.

"I, uh, I brought you some stuff," he said, walking over and setting the bag beside her on the bed. "Sonny said you were probably going stir crazy in here."

"A little bit," she admitted, reaching around to adjust her pillows as she sat up. "Dr. Lee said I have to stay for one more day just to make sure things are okay. She keeps labeling this a high risk pregnancy, which is the last thing I want to hear right now…" She realized she was starting to ramble, so she hushed, stretching to peek into the bag. "Jason, this was so nice of you."

Shrugging, he pulled out the sketchbooks and pencils. "It was Sonny's idea," he replied, never giving credit where it was due. "But if the doctor's worried, maybe you should rest."

"I slept all night and all morning," she groaned, fanning through the clean, white pages. Few things smelled better than a fresh sketchbook. "This is perfect. Just what I needed."

"Uh, I'm glad," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around the room as if he didn't know what exactlywhat to do.

Elizabeth knew that he'd been by her bedside for most of the night, leaving once when Sonny came by, and this morning when the doctor came in to check on her. She'd seen him in the hallway when Brenda was visiting, and he'd disappeared for a while, but now here he was again.

"You know, ifIf you have something to do…" She bit her lip as she looked up at him, smiling when he shook his head. "Okay, then maybe…we could…talk."

His eyes flashed to hers, and she saw the same kind of fear in them she had last night, but as long as he wasn't running away, it was okay. "I don't – you'll get upset."

"Not today," she said, leaning over to set the sketchbook and pencils on the tray beside her bed. "Last night I was upset over a lot of things and…we have to talk, Jason."

"I know," he agreed, taking the bag from the bed and setting it down on the floor. "I just – I don't want you to get upset again."

"Not angry, remember?" she shrugged, leaning back against her pillows, relieved when he finally sat down in the chair.

"Not angry," he repeated, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his chin with one of his hands. "I don't really know what to say though."

"You're not the only one," she laughed, raking her hands through her hair and twisting it into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. "I – I've been thinking about last night all day."

"Me too," he swallowed, looking up at her with serious eyes.

"Good," she nodded, glad that he was thinking about it all too.

They'd shared a lot, more than they probably imagined, and now they had to decide what to do with all of it. She wasn't being overly idealistic and expecting him to want a family and to be with her, but there was something here. At least, she thought there was.

"I meant what I said," Elizabeth murmured, stroking the side of her belly with a slender finger. "About how I feel for you – how you make me feel."

"I know you did," he said quietly, watching her so intently that it almost made her uncomfortable, but a part of her, somewhere deep inside, felt incredibly safe. "I keep thinking about how good things were when I first woke up. How patient you were…how you wanted me to do things that I wanted…how good it felt to be with you. And it still does, but there's just so much…"

She couldn't blame him for being overwhelmed by his feelings and her past, the one he didn't remember.

"Sonny – he said something to me today," Jason continued, getting up from the chair and moving to the end of the bed. She was surprised when he sat down, but she could feel that he was craving some kind of closeness, wanting the connection he trusted. "About how everyone acts like Jason and I are two different people – that we are mentally – but physically, we are part of one another."

Shrugging, he dropped his gaze to her belly, the slightest hint of fear lingering in his eyes. "I don't know if that's why I've always been comfortable with you, why I was drawn to you…but it does mean this baby is a part – a part of me in some way, which means you are too. And I feel – I feel good when I'm with you, when I don't have to think about the anger, the past, or the lies."

She sucked in a breath, caught off by guard by everything he'd said. So much of it was what she wanted to hear, what she felt, and she still didn't know where they were supposed to go from here.

"Jason," she said, leaning forward and lifting a hand to his face. He flinched beneath her touch, like he always did, only this time he didn't pull away. "You have to know that keeping the truth from you – it was the hardest thing I've ever done. And I'll always be sorry for not thinking that you couldn't handle the truthit, especially now when you've shown me how strong you really are."

"I know – now I know," he replied, lifting his eyes back to hers. "But I don't know if this can work. If I'm not going to get angry or frustrated or if I can actually do this. I don't know what it's like to care for someone or love them, but-"

"You've already taken care of us," she cut in softly, smoothing her thumb over his cheek, reveling in the warmth of his skin beneath her palm. "I thought I knew everything about loving someone, but I'm realizing I don't know anything at all, so in a way I'm starting over too." Shrugging, she gave him a smile through her tear-filled eyes. "And maybe this won't work. Maybe there's too much to get over here, too much to understand, but I think if there was _nothing_ between us, we would have already walked away."

Ducking his head, he tried to pull his face out of her touch, but she cupped the other cheek too, forcing him to look at her. "I think we have to try," she said nervously, not wanting to push him or make him feel obligated to do anything. "If only for the friendship, for the understanding we had in the beginning. If we can have anything, we _can_ have that, and the rest – if there's supposed to be more, it'll figure itself out."

He nodded, covering her hands with his and pulling them into to his lap. "Okay."


	36. Chapter 36

**[Prompt – Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper. – Friedrich Nietzsche]**

**Chapter 36**

"Oh, Jason, I was hoping to see you soon," Lila said, looking up from her wheelchair as she sat in the living room of the Quartermaine mansion.

Her grandson smiled as he eased the door to the terrace closed. "I should have come sooner. I'm sorry."

"No need for apologies," she replied, closing the book she was reading and motioning for him to come over. "May I ask what had you so held up?"

Despite her family's attempt to keep her from knowing that Elizabeth was in the hospital, she had found out, mostly from Reginald after overhearing Edward and AJ arguing in the study a couple nights ago. Unfortunately her family didn't realize that while Lila was old, not only was her hearing impeccable, but the staff liked her more than anyone else.

Jason's jaw tightened as he kneeled down in front her. His eyes were tired and shadowed by faint circles, leaving her to wonder when the last time was that he actually slept. "I was…with Elizabeth."

Lila couldn't hide the smile that formed on her lips. "How is she?" she asked, taking a deep breath and preparing herself for bad news.

Yes, Reginald had told her that Elizabeth had been admitted to General Hospital after having contractions and that she was fine, but she knew he wasn't going to give her any heartbreaking news.

"She's been in the hospital," he said slowly, watching her carefully for the slightest hint of distress.

"I heard," she admitted, knowing Jason wouldn't mind that she'd eavesdropped on her husband's conversation. "I assume she's alright or else I hope I would have been told otherwise."

"She's had a hard time lately," he replied, his voice heavy with guilt. "Working too much, high blood pressure…" She sensed his hesitation as he trailed off, but knew better than to press him for information. The good thing about Jason was that he would tell her what he wanted her to know, what she needed to know, even if he was protecting her for something. "I didn't help matters either."

"How did you find out?" she asked, her heart warming at the thought of Jason learning about his ex-wife and rushing to her side. He frowned, his eyes darkening, and she held out her hand, for his, surprised to find at how cold his skin was next to hers. "Whatever happened is not your fault."

He nodded, swallowing hard. "I was…with her. We were fighting and she – she just collapsed. It was the baby – contractions from stress and…"

"Are they okay?" she asked again, desperately wanting a straight answer from someone.

He nodded again, relief washing over his face. "She's going home today – right now, actually. Brenda is taking her. The doctor wants her to take a couple weeks off of work and only go back for a couple hours a day. She's worrying still, about bills and money and having everything ready, but I told her she didn't have to worry anymore."

"And why doesn't she have to worry?" Lila asked, her face breaking into a full out grin because she already knew the answer.

"I'm going to help her. I don't know how exactly or what I can do, but that baby - it's complicated." He shrugged, rolling his eyes when she lifted a hand to his cheek. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Sounds to me like you're finally accepting the first person who ever accepted you," Lila murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. "It's the one thing I've wanted for you these past few months."

"I thought about what you said – about who she was to me after the accident, not before. And she and I talked and…We're _something_. And the baby…"

"Is something too," she filled in, gently pinching his cheek and dropping her hand back to her lap.

She was going to tell him how going to tell him how proud she was of his choices lately and point out just how much he'd grown, but didn't want to get over sentimental. Besides, what was there for her to say? This was what she wanted to happen, what she knew would happen if they could just let go of everything else, and now it had.

"You need to take care of yourself if you're going to take care of her," Lila reminded him, wagging a finger at him. "She's more than halfway through her pregnancy and she's going to need you. She's _always_ needed you."

His eyes fell to the ground as he sucked in a shaky breath. "I don't want to mess up anymore."

Chuckling, she leaned forward and patted him on the cheek, ducking her head so that she could meet his eye. "Then don't," she said simply, laughing again when the corners of his mouth curved upward. A hint of a smile was such a rarity from her grandson.

She supposed underneath the anger, he had felt this way all along; , that he had always been this comfortable when it came to Elizabeth, but didn't know what to do with any of it. Seeing this side of him reminded her why she'd had hope for him and Elizabeth all along. "You may not remember who you were, but you know who you are now, and like any other person you're not only capable of love and understanding, but you deserve to have it."

Nodding, he pushed himself up from the floor, bending over to kiss her tenderly on the cheek. "Thank you for…everything."

She waved him away with her hand. "You just make sure you bring Elizabeth to see me, the baby too."

"Grandmother, are you talking – what the hell are you doing here?" AJ glared at his younger brother as he walked towards them, glancing briefly at Lila as if checking for injury. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Oh, AJ," Lila sighed, looking apologetically at Jason, and noticing how the kindness in his eyes had already disappeared and was being replaced by anger. The kind that consumed him and made him do and say things he always regretted. "Jason can stop by to visit me whenever he wants."

"Is that so?" he asked, stepping towards his brother. "Any particular reason for this visit, little brother?"

"I wanted to tell Lila that Elizabeth was okay," Jason replied slowly, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Right," AJ said sarcastically, turning back to Lila. "I guess he couldn't wait to tell you about what really happened at the hospital between him and Grandfather." Lila's eyes instantly flashed to Jason's, which she immediately regretted because he looked so guilty and upset. "How he threatened Grandfather's life if he so much as went near Elizabeth and how he-"

"You want to tell her what happened, that's fine," Jason interrupted, grabbing AJ by the arm and jerking him towards him so hard that he stumbled and almost fell against him. He held AJ close, narrowing his eyes as he spoke, and Lila watched completely stunned, though she knew she shouldn't be surprised. Hatred like this was bound to fester when brothers were pitted against one another.

. "YBut you just tell her the truth. You tell her what Edward did to Elizabeth, how you and him and everyone else in this family except her help put Elizabeth in the hospital. At least let her know why I threatened him."

Jason shoved him away, rubbing his clenched fists together as he looked over at Lila. "I'm sorry."

"Wait," she called after him, but it was too late, he was already out the terrace door.

"You can't listen to a thing he says, Grandmother. I know that you pity him-"

"Pity?" she interrupted, gripping the arms of her wheelchair, one hand fumbling for the controls. She pulled herself back, too upset to even look at him. "Jason's my grandson and if I pity anyone, it's _you_."

**********

Elizabeth paced back and forth in her living room, trying to decide what she was going to do with herself for the next two weeks while she had to take it easy- Dr. Lee's choice words. She had wanted to point out that nothing in her life was easy, but she knew better than to push a doctor. The last thing she needed was to be told she wasn't allowed to work for the rest of her pregnancy, and then she would have really lost her mindit.

It wasn't that she would mind the time off. She could use the extra sleep and less swollen feet and lack of crabby customers, but she would miss the money, and the company. "Looks like it's just me and you," she sighed, smoothing her hand over her belly as she looked around her apartment.

Brenda had done an incredible job with helping her decorate. Between the fresh coat of paint on the walls, the new furniture, and various knickknacks, it actually felt like a home. There was still a little bit of unpacking to be done, not to mention tons of things that she needed to buy for the baby, so maybe this break was a good thing.

"Yeah," she muttered aloud, padding across the wooden floors in bare feet to peek into the room that would eventually look like a nursery. Except for the cradle and a few shopping bags of little things she'd managed to pick up, it was mostly bare. "We can go shopping…on a budget. Eat lots of ice cream. And just maybe you'll let me sleep at night."

Sighing, she pushed herself away from the doorway and turned back to the living room, deciding debating on whether to nap on her foldout bed, which Brenda had been kind enough to pull out for her before leaving. Or she could flip through the hundreds of channels Max and Milo had insisted she order with her cable package. Something told her Johnny had told them to do that.

Instead, she found herself digging through the bag she'd brought home from the hospital, and grinning at the sketchbooks Jason had given her. To him, it was something that someone told him to do, but to her it had been really touching that he'd gone out of his way for her.

"I have a feeling," she murmured, patting her stomach with one of the pads of paper, "that things just might be okay…for all of us, especially you."

She sat the sketchbooks down on the coffee table and continued to empty the bag, shaking her head at a soft, yellow baby blanket she'd been unable to resist in the gift shop. Buying things made the baby realer, which made things a little scarier, but when she thought about holding her baby in her arms, she had a feeling that everything would make sense.

"I can't wait to see you," she said quietly, smiling when she felt a hard kick from inside her. "You'll definitely hurt a lot less and-" She stopped, her head snapping towards the door when someone knocked loudly, almost angrily. "One second!"

Quickly, she tossed everything back into the bag, which defeated the purpose of unpacking it, but there was something private about what was being kept inside it. "I'm coming," she hissed under her breath, the pounding continuing as she undid the deadbolt and two locks (also courtesy of Max and Milo). "AJ…it's good to see you."

There had been a lot of stress from his family, but that didn't change how she felt about him. He was stubborn and selfish, mostly a jerk, but she still cared about him. "Come in," she said, stepping aside, but he shook his head.

"I can't stay," he replied, his face tense and eyes hard as he smoothed his tie. "Look, I know that you were really stressed out – that Grandfather didn't help, but you should have come to me. You didn't have to do this to yourself."

"I tried," she shrugged, knowing she didn't have to remind him of the number of calls messages she'd left with his secretary and on his cell phone.

"Did you have to go to Jason?" he asked angrily, shaking his head in disgust, and she was reminded of the jealousy he used to have over his brother.

"I didn't go to Jason," she defended, her hand tightening around the doorknob as she stepped into the doorway, blocking his the entrance. She wanted the option of slamming his door in the face when we he went too far and AJ _always_ went too far. "He was with me on the docks. He found me. He called 9-1-"

"You told him that Grandfather was giving you a hard time," he interrupted, narrowing his eyes at her. "I was trying to help you. I was trying to get him to back off, but when he gave me this job, he thought that I would help smooth things over."

"No, he thought you were going to help him take this child, or worse, that you were going to act as its father, giving the Quartermaine's some kind of say," she fired back, unable to believe that AJ was pinning all of this on her. "You're the one who took the job at ELQ after you promised me you were going to help. And then you said it wouldn't come in between us-"

"This company is important to me," he cut in hastily, "and you know that. You know this is what I've always wanted."

"No," she corrected, shaking her head at him, no longer caring about hurting his feelings. Maybe it was the result of everything that had happened, but she suddenly had no desire to put up with anyone's shit. "You wanted what Jason had. You always have. And you realized you could only get-"

"Go to hell, Elizabeth," he interrupted, starting towards her. "I guess it's easy to play the high and mighty game now that you've got what you want – your're poor, pitiful little prince back on his throne. I guess it's a good thing that someone wants-" Suddenly, he was jerked back on his feet, his words dying as he slammed into the wall across the hallway and lost his breath.

Jason stepped between them, keeping his back to Elizabeth as he shoved AJ against the wall again, his fingers curled into the collar of his shirt to hold him in place. "I warned Edward, AJ. I guess it's your turn now."

**********

Every time Jason heard a Quartermaine speak to Elizabeth, it got under his skin, making him think about how they had treated her after his accident. The horrible things they said to her about her relationship, her background, and her overall attitude towards them had always stuck with him. He knew it was hypocritical to hold what they said against them when he'd been equally as mean to her, but there was something different about them.

Sure, the delivery of their cruel words might match one another – Jason probably gave them a run for their money when it came down to it – b. ut tThere was just something about the way they spoke to her. It wasn't as if they were trying to push her buttons or hurt her feelings or make her disappear.

No, they _meant_ the_believed _the awful things they said to her. They believedE every word they spewed about her not being good enough to be Quartermaine, about her not loving Jason enough,enough and it disgusted him. He didn't care if it made him a hypocrite, if he was just as awful as those people – at least he was trying to correct it.

"Jason," Elizabeth said softly, stepping up beside him, her fingers wrapping around his wrists. "Let him go."

Instead, he tightened his hold on AJ, fighting the urge to take him outside her building and beat the living hell out of him. He wasn't the sole cause of what had happened, but he had supported Edward.

He was just so tired of everyone hurting her.

"Please," she begged, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as she stepped closer, the curve of her belly pressing against his side. "Just let him go."

Hesitating, he shoved AJ against the wall again, knocking the wind out of him, and Elizabeth let out a loud gasp, her nails digging into his wrists. "Stop!" she cried, her eyes filling with tears. "Don't do this."

And then he felt it – a tiny bump against his side as her body pressed into him, and suddenly he let AJ go and stepped back, holding his hands in the air.

"I could be a real prick and press charges," AJ spat, straightening his tie as he caught his breath. "But you've put Elizabeth through enough as it is."

"Jason," she murmured, tightening her hold on his hands when he started after him again. She slipped in front of him, looking up at him with desperate blue eyes, her hands still holding on. "Just let it go. AJ – he's…nothing."

He swallowed hard, glaring past her as AJ disappeared down the stairs at the end of hall, fighting the anger that had built inside him. It was the promise he made to Elizabeth – the private declaration that he didn't want to be angry anymore – that was keeping him from going after AJ Quartermaine.

Lesser men had died for crossing his path since working for Sonny, and getting rid of someone like AJ would have been easy, except it would have hurt Elizabeth.

"Are you okay?" she asked, relaxing her hands as he lowered his arms to his sides. He nodded, gritting his teeth as he continued to look past her as if AJ was going to come back for another round. She squeezed his wrists before letting go. "Good, then come inside."

She turned around and started into her apartment, not looking over her shoulder or waiting expectantly on him to follow. He didn't know how long he stood in the hallway trying to regain his composure before finally going inside.

Elizabeth looked over from the one of the windows when he closed the door behind him. "Did you go to see Lila?" she asked curiously, her tone less accusatory than he expected. "It's been so long since I've seen her. I hope she wasn't worried."

"That's why I went there," he replied, his eyes roaming around her apartment. It was nicer than everyone seemed to think, homely even, just like his penthouse was the first time he'd gone inside. "I wanted to tell her you were okay, but I didn't go there to-"

"I know you didn't," she said, leaning her head against the window frame. "You don't want to involve Lila anymore than I do. You know how much this would hurt her if she found out."

Shrugging, he walked over to her, relieved to see that she didn't appear too upset about what had happened. The doctor had ordered less stress and she'd been home less than two hours and already had a confrontation. "She may find out anyway," Jason muttered, shaking his head in disgust at how AJ had interrupted their visit, making it about him, which seemed to be what he always did. "AJ was angry that I was there. He thought I was telling Lila what had happened…"

"Oh," she sighed, her shoulders sagging as she looked out the window. She looked exhausted, more so than she had in the last couple of days, and he wanted to comfort her, but didn't know how. "I thought I could count on AJ, but he only wants one thing out of life – to be better than his brother. I shouldn't be surprised by how he's acting. He was always jealous of Jason's position at ELQ, his relationship with me. Sometimes I think the accident was a relief for him too because it gave him a chance."

She pushed herself away from the window and shuffled across the floor, no destination in mind, just felt the need to move about, like it would distance her from the truth. "Brenda used to tease me about AJ being in love with me. I don't think I realized it until after the accident – when he really wanted to be a part of this baby's life. Like he was getting something that Jason wanted but couldn't have. And when he realized that it wasn't going to be what he wanted it to be, Edward gave him ELQ, so he chose that because he knew he cwouldn't have me." She tucked her hair behind her ear and rocked back on her feet. "And the sad part is that I still worry about him. I know that coming here was to try and cover his own ass – to protect himself, and I just want to help him, but I can't. Crazy, huh?"

"Not really," he replied, starting to relax from everything that had happenedstill trying to relax from everything. "Sounds like AJ's the one with the real problem, not you."

"I guess so," she muttered, folding her arms over her chest. "He and Jason were always pitted against one another. I have an older sister, so I know what that's like, only I avoid her like the plague, which is easy because she doesn't live here." Shaking her head, she looked at him, her cheeks flushing. "Sorry, I'm rambling about stuff that doesn't really matter."

"I don't mind," he said seriously, something about the sound of her voice making him feel less tense. He needed to calm down after his visit with Lila and instead of going to Jake's, he found himself outside Elizabeth's building.

"Good," she said, grinning as she walked and said down on the edge of the fold. "I'm glad you stopped by. It was a nice surprise."

"Just wanted to make sure you didn't need anything," he shrugged, again noticing how tired she looked, and hoping that AJ had gotten to her enough that he'd keep her up at night worrying. "Do you?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head as she scooted back on the bed so that she was resting against the pillows. "Johnny picked up some food – stuff I actually know how to cook. And Brenda handled everything else."

"Okay," he nodded, rubbing his hand over the back of her his neck.

The living room was basically her bedroom and it felt like such a strange place to be in that moment. He'd spent the last two nights in her hospital room, mostly watching her sleep, which seemed fine because she was away from home and out of her comfort zone. This was her home, her bedroom, and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be here or not.

"You should rest," he said, standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed. "If you need anything-"

"Call," she cut in softly, as she shook a ratty, old comforter out over her body.

She watched him closely as he walked over to the door, calling out his name as he started to open it. He froze, wondering if she was going to ask him to stay, and he almost didn't want to turn around. It was an odd place to be – not knowing what was right or wrong, but knowing what he did want.

Instead, she smiled timidly, looking small and frail beneath the comforter. "You can come here anytime. Day or night. No matter what."

Nodding, he opened the door and slipped into the hallway, letting out a shaky breath when he realized he was disappointed that she didn't hadn't asked him to stay.


	37. Chapter 37

**[Prompt - Friends****hip often ends in love; but love in friendship - never.]**

**Chapter 37**

Jason was restless as usual, but tonight it was worse.

It was strange not knowing where he was supposed to be or who he was supposed to be with. Something told him – just a gut feeling mixed with voice messages from Carly – that Jake's was the last place he wanted to go, and the idea of his penthouse made him feel surprisingly empty, so he ended up walking…and walking…and finally ended up at one of Sonny's warehouses.

He knew a shipment was due, and figured that Johnny, Max, or whoever was in charge might need an extra set of hands, and he was surprised when he found Sonny standing near the loading dock all by his lonesome.

The mobster turned around when he heard Jason's footsteps, arching his eyebrows when he realized who it was. Jason shrugged, stepping up beside him. "I thought I'd see if the guys needed help tonight."

"I thought you'd be with Elizabeth," Sonny murmured, clearly trying to feel him out, and he frowned when Jason shrugged again. "Still figuring things out?"

"Something like that I guess," he admitted, not sure how to explain what exactly was going on, but something told him that Sonny already knew.

"Just be patient, don't rush it, and make sure that she knows you're there," he replied, scratching a hand over his chin. "It'll work itself out."

"Yeah," Jason nodded, confused as to what exactly was going to work itself out, but he supposed that's where the patience came in.

At the hospital, Elizabeth had made it clear that there didn't have to be a deep, convoluted connection – that they could start out simple by being friends, but Jason wasn't sure if that was possible. The line, he was learning, between friendship and something more was so thin that the slightest step over it changed everything.

When he thought about Elizabeth, he thought about how she made him feel, how sometimes it was good and others it was the worst feeling ever. He thought about all their fights and the harsh words they'd thrown at one another. And he thought about how those words led him to do things like having sex with her against the dining room wall or seeking her out in the middle of the night at her studio and wanting to sleep with her, but not being able to go through with it.

They most definitely werewere definitely _not_ just friends.

"Did she get settled in okay?" Sonny asked, glancing over his shoulder when he heard voices behind them.

Jason looked back to see Johnny and Max coming towards them, and he was almost relieved because that meant Sonny wouldn't ask him about Elizabeth for much longer. "Yeah, she did," he replied, folding his arms over his chest. "Her apartment – it's nice. And she seems to like it there so…"

"I'm glad," he nodded, turning in the direction of the guards as they grew closer, one carrying a takeout bag from Kelly's. The diner had closed a couple hours ago, but it paid to be the owner's son. "Why don't you take off, Jason?"

"What?" His eyes shifted to Sonny's, wondering why he was being asked to leave.

"You've had a hard couple days. Go home and sleep. Or better, go check on Elizabeth," he replied, clapping him on the back. "Just take a couple days to yourself, to spend with her, to relax. Your job will be waiting."

Jason hesitated, mostly because he wasn't exactly sure where to go. Home wasn't appealing and he'd already checked on Elizabeth. "If you need me-"

"I'll call," he cut in, flashing him a dimpled smile before calling out to Johnny to hurry up with his food.

Jason glanced back over the water, turning back to the warehouse with a sigh as he slipped past the guards and his boss, who were now caught up in their dinner, and asked himself where exactly he was supposed to go.

He slipped out his cell phone as he walked through the warehouse, heading for the side that let out near the Elm Street Pier, frowning when he saw he didn't have any missed calls – well from anyone that mattered.

Frustrated, he tucked the phone back into his pocket, scolding himself for waiting around on Elizabeth to call. It wasn't like him to want to be at someone's beck and call, to want to hear their voice, and he blamed the last two days spent with her at the hospital for making him feel this way.

If anyone knew how easy it was to start depending on a person's presence in their life, it was Jason. Maybe it was the routine or the idea of having someone _there_, but either way he was realizing it was something he needed, especially after his accident. The doctor's had said routines were ideal for a person like him. His entire being had been shattered and he had to find himself again, and towhich do that he needed required a dependable lifestability.

Elizabeth was the first constant after his accident. Their walks, their drives through town, and their conversations about nothing at all were the first thingswhat he looked forward to. And when he pushed her away, Sonny became that person; giving him jobs and advice and always leaving his door open.

The bar became an easy filler for his nights; the constant of beer and sex with women like Carly. It was a routine he fell into without realizing it, and though it had only been broken for a few days, he worried that he'd fall back into it and ruin everything all over.

Shaking his head, he pushed through the doors and started for the pier. Sometimes he found solace in the dark of night and the sound of the water, and he was eager for that n, now more than ever.

As he approached, he sucked in a breath, surprised to see a familiar, petite form with a head full of curls doing the exact same thing.

**********

Elizabeth's pregnancy was beginning to mix up her nights and days, or maybe it was the hospital stay that had her so damn restless that she didn't know what to do with herself.

The past couple of nights had been spent sitting lying in bed, Jason at her side in a chair, the two of them not saying much at all, but it being enough to keep her calm and relaxed. It was a strange feeling to miss him, to want him close to her, or to simply know he was going to be there when she opened her eyes.

When he wasn't angry or mean, Jason had the comforting presence. He had a way of being unreasonably calm during stressful situations, and it was almost like he took away her stress and carried it for her.

Tonight, she didn't really have any stress that needed carriedcarrying. She just missed the company, and it was like she'd realized for the first time just how lonely her tiny apartment was.

After falling asleep early, she'd woken up hungry, craving greasy diner food, so she'd driven herself across town to Kelly's, eager to see a friendly face. She and Mike had talked about everything between customers, and he'd sent her on her way with half of a chocolate cake – her absolute favorite, and then she'd started to head to her studio, but ended up on the docks instead.

It was a beautiful night, the kind that Springs were made for, and she knew before she left her apartment that she wanted to paint, but after dinner and a little bit of dessert, she was tired and found herself sitting down on the bench and enjoying the silence. It was a beautiful night, the kind spring was made for, and so after dinner and a little bit of dessert, she found herself sitting down on the bench and enjoying the silence.

Only silence rarely came to her these days, and she found herself recalling her fight with Jason a few nights ago, and how she could have lost her baby on the stairs behind her, and that was when she started to cry.

At first, it was only a few tears, her stomach knotting in a familiar way asas she remembered the searing pain, the and clenching gut wrenching fear that she was going to lose her child.

Then more came when she thought about how Jason caught her, how he held her so close and promised it was going to be okay, but mostly how she called him the father and he climbed inside the ambulance.

And finally, the quiet sobs started, forcing her to feel everything she'd been shoving aside for the past couple of days. All the ugly truths she and Jason had shared in the hospital, how he'd held her hand, and never left her side, but mostly how she they committed to a friendship, which was probably the biggest lie of all.

She and Jason were never going to be _just_ friends.

"Elizabeth?" Sucking in a breath, her head snapped up to see Jason cautiously approaching her, his eyes wide and confused. "What are you doing here?"

She stammered, trying to gather her thoughts, her cheeks flushing as she held up the Kelly's bag that had been tucked against her side. "I was hungry."

"It's the middle of the night," he sighed, easing himself down on the bench, a closeness he would have never allowed himself to have days ago.

"Pregnancy cravings," she shrugged, rubbing a hand over her face as if trying to erase the very thoughts she'd been having about him.

"It's dangerous," he reminded her, looking over her carefully as if she was hurt and not telling him.

"No worries," she muttered, opening her fist and revealing a small bottle of pepper spray. "I'm learning to take precautions."

"That's good," he replied, swallowing hard as he lifted his eyes to hers. "But you really shouldn't be out here. You just got out of the hospital."

"I'm not on bedrestbed rest," she pointed out, arching her eyebrows at him. "And you can't expect me to stay in that apartment for the next two weeks. I'll lose my mind."

"I want you to be safe – the baby too," he said, dropping his eyes to her stomach.

She smoothed a hand over her sweater, gently tapping the top of her round belly. "We are, but the baby wanted cake, and then I was tired and…"

"Elizabeth…" He sighed in annoyance, shifting his eyes out over the water. His fingers curled against the thighs of his jeans and she couldn't resist leaning over to place her hand over his, straightening it beneath hers. His eyes shot back to hers in surprise and she couldn't decide if he was angry or confused.

"I'm fine," she said softly, sucking in a breath when she realized his eyes were darkening, that he was angry with her for being out here in the middle of the night, but he was trying not to show it.

"You…Elizabeth…" Taking a deep breath, he tightened his jaw, and then relaxed it. "Just…I want to take you home."

Nodding, she grabbed her leftovers and pushed herself up from the bench. "Okay."

**********

Yawning, Elizabeth dug through her purse for her keys, dropping her cake in the process. It tumbled from the bag, the container popping open, and the cake rolleding onto the floor.

"Shit," she muttered, forcing a smile at Jason when he stooped down to pick it up. "I really wanted that."

He looked up, preparing to tell her he would get her more, but she shrugged it off before he could, finding her key and letting them inside.

She'd nearly fell fallen asleep on the drive home, and Jason was thankful that she hadn't because he wasn't sure if it would have been okay to carry her upstairs or not. And he'd already flubbed up enough for one night by offering to bring her home, only to realize he had a motorcycle – n not a car. Elizabeth laughed it off, telling him he could drive her car, and that if he didn't want to stay at her apartment, he could just bring it back to her tomorrow.

Shivering, Elizabeth smoothed her hands up and down her arms as they stepped inside, and Jason was surprised by how drafty her apartment was. It hadn't seemed like this earlier and surely it wasn't good for her to be in such a cold place.

"I left a window open," she muttered, setting her purse down on the coffee table and starting for a set of sliding doors he hadn't noticed when he was here earlier. She fussed as she pulled them open, and he started over to help her just as they parted, revealing what was on the other side of the doors.

_The nursery. _

"I was painting a little earlier," she explained, walking over to one of the cracked windows and pushing it down. She turned back to him with a smile that quickly faded when she realized how awkward this suddenly was. "Um…sorry."

"Don't apologize," he said, slowly stepping into the room and looking at the mostly barepale yellow walls.

A simple green border had been started at the bottom and he wondered if that was what she'd been painting. In the corner was a wooden crib and various bags were scattered across the floorpiled next to it, blankets peeking out of the top. A flimsy table was set up in the middle of the room, covered with various paint supplies.

"I wanted to paint something on the walls – some type of mural," she shrugged, wringing her hands as she looked around. "Obviously, I didn't get very far. I keep changing my mind about what I want."

Nodding, he shuffled across the floor, taking in the feel of the room, and finding found something about it so comfortable. It felt like a place where a baby _should_ be, where it would be loved and safe once it all came together.

"What do babies like?" he asked, knowing the question sounded stupid.

"I don't know," she laughed, pulling the sleeves of her sweaters over her hands as she moseyed about the room, watching him closely. "Sometimes I want to paint a little city on the wall…or animals….or just leave it. I don't know."

"Animals are nice," he muttered, noticing the that the border near the floor looked like grass. "Like zoo animals.... Safari animals."

"Safari animals," she repeated, nodding as she looked around at the walls. "Lions, tigers, giraffes. You like Safari animals?" She laughed to herself after asking the question, her cheeks turning bright red.

"I, uh, I read a book about them a couple weeks ago," he replied, peeking out one of the windows that overlooked into the building's parking lot.

"What kind of book?" she asked, walking over to the table in the middle of the room and tossing her paint bottles and brushes back into a box.

"Travel book," he answered, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning against the window. "About Africa."

"Are you thinking about going thereOh. Do you want to go there?" She closed the box and left it on the table, turning back to him as she rubbed her hands together, unsure of what else to do with them.

"I don't know," he shrugged, knowing that she had to realize know traveling wasn't something he could do right now. "Maybe one day. I just like travel books. I like facts, knowing things about places."

"Because they're black and white," she nodded, giving him a warm smile. "There's no gray when it comes to what is written about an African Safari, huh?"

"Exactly." He was surprised that she knew exactly what he meant, but if anyone understood the need for black and white truths, it was probably Elizabeth.

"Do you read a lot?" she asked, leaning against the other side of the window and looking up at him.

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged, glancing away when her eyes softened as she looked at him. "Do you?"

"Not really," she replied, laughing to herself. "When I did, I read art books or the classics – Jane Austen…, Pride and Prejudice – things like that…and you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"No," he admitted, the corners his mouth curving upward as she laughed again, the blues of her eyes so soft and tender that he found it impossible not to smile at her.

Her eyes lit up as if surprised, but she didn't say why, and looked back around the room instead. "I like the Safari animals. And it can work for a girl or a boy," she murmured, gasping as she lifted a hand to her stomach.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out towards her, but stopping himself from actually touching her.

"Yeah," she laughed, hesitating as she reached for his hand. She grabbed, but grabbing it anyway and pressing pressed it flatlyhis palm against the side of her belly. "I think the baby likes Safari animals too."

He took a deep breath as he felt the pattering against his palm, his fingers almost instinctively curling into her side as he thought about the baby. "Hey, it's okay," she said, letting go of his hand so that it fell back to his side.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, turning back to the window, confused as to why the baby made him feel this way. He wanted to protect it and Elizabeth, to keep them save safe and make sure they were both okay, but he was still so afraid of being close to it and hurting them both.

It was times like these when he wanted to walk away, when he knew they would be better off without him. Only hHis feet wouldn't move. His head told him to stay. His heart tightened so much in his chest that he couldn't breathe.

And then he looked over at her, watching how she rubbed her belly so gently and thought of how the baby felt against his hand, saw her eyes were tender and full of understanding, and he just knew he'd never be able to walk away.


	38. Chapter 38

**[Prompt – I think you have a gift for it. It was a perfect blend of poetry and meanness. – You've Got Mail]**

**Chapter 38**

Yawning, Elizabeth rolled onto her back and stretched out on the mattress, grinning when she realized how good she'd actually slept.

No nurses poking and prodding her in the middle of the night. No doctors clucking their tongue. No lumpy hospital bed with rails that made her feel like she was in prison.

Just her bed in her apartment with Jason beside her in a chair, his feet propped up on her coffee table.

She hadn't asked him to leave leave or stay. They just fell into some strange natural rhythm of her crawling into bed and him sitting down beside her as she scrolled through her hundreds of channels, settling on some travel show for him before going finally dozing off to sleep. She'd woken up three times, each to go to the bathroom, and she couldn't believe how good it felt to look over and have Jason beside her.

Sighing, she pushed herself up and raked her hands through her tangled curls, straightening even more when she heard someone in the kitchen – and then she smelled the bacon. Tossing her covers back, she scooted towards the edge of the bed, looking towards the kitchen to see Jason leaning over the stove, a spatula in hand.

She slowly made her way to the kitchenway into the room, almost not wanting to disturb the moment of him moving around like he lived there, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Leaning against the doorway, she watched him flip eggs, the relaxation in his shoulders practically bleeding into the room.

"Hey," he said a second later, glancing over his shoulder at her.

Of course, he'd known she was there. That was part of his job for Sonny after all.

"Hey," she murmured back, her voice tired as she walked over to the tiny breakfast table shoved in the corner, and suckedsucking in a breath when she noticed the gun sitting in the middle of it.

Jason's head snapped towards hers, his gaze falling to the table thean lifting back at to her. "Um…I'll put it away."

"Please," she muttered, nibbling her lip as he grabbed the gun from the table and tucked it into the back of his jeans, shaking his t-shirt out to hide it.

It wasn't like she didn't know he had a gun or that he used it. He was working for a mobster and it was clearly more than warehouse work judging from his relationship with Sonny, but…seeing it – well, she was happier not knowing.

"I'm sorry," he said guiltily, turning back to the stove as if he'd been scolded.

"No, it's fine," she shrugged, pulling out a chair and slumping down into it. "I was just…not used to seeing a gun...on my kitchen table."

Nodding as if he understood, he slid a couple of eggs onto her plate along with a deliciously greasy pile of bacon, and set it down in front of her. "I thought…you might be hungry. I hope it's okay that I went through your fridge and cab-"

"No worries," she cut in, grabbing a piece of the bacon and taking the most incredible bite of her entire life. "This is…" She chewed and swallowed so she could talk. "So good."

"It's just something simple," he shrugged, sitting down across from her with his own plate.

"It's good, better than I would make on any day," she laughed, taking another bite.

"Bacon's pretty simple," he muttered, refusing all her compliments.

"For you," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I'm a terrible cook, except for brownies. I make really good brownies." She took another bite, chewing in silence, and suddenly realized remembered the gun he had tucked into his back.

"Safety's on," he murmured quietly, noticing how she looked at himcutting his eggs.

"Oh," she said dumbly, embarrassed by how naïve she must have lookedtrying to hide her embarrassment. "So…where did you learn to cook?"

It wasn't something he'd just known before that was embedded into his brain. Jason Quartermaine had been a terrible cook, probably worse than her, so they ate out more than at home.

"Sonny sort of taught me," he replied, shoving his food around on his plate. "And I, uh, I bought a book."

She arched her eyebrows. "A book."

"Yeah," he shrugged, shoving a bite into his mouth and chewing slowly as if to give him time to think of a response. "They have them for everything."

Grinning, she slid another piece of bacon into her mouth. "They do."

They ate the rest of their food in silence, except when Elizabeth commented on how good everything was, and soon they were just scrapping silverware against their plates, trying to figure out what to say to one another.

"Do you have to work today?" Elizabeth asked, laying her fork in the center of her plate and leaning back in her chair. She rubbed her stomach when the baby started to kick, praying that it wasn't going to get upset and decided breakfast wasn't as good as it tasted.

He shook his head. "Do you have plans?"

She hesitated, not wanting to have plans if he wanted to do…_something_. "Brenda and I talked yesterday about going shopping if I felt up to it."

"Do you?" he asked, his eyes sweeping over her and, checking for some sign that she wasn't.

"Yeah," she shrugged, not always one for retail therapy these days considering her lack of funds, but all she had was a few blankets and a crib. "I have so much stuff I have to get for the baby. I can't keep putting it off."

"I saw," he replied, pointing to a list that she'd torn out of some baby magazine early in her pregnancy. She'd left it sitting on the table for months, too terrified to look at it. It was a never-ending checklist of everything she needed, none of which she had yet. "I guess you have a lot to buy."

"Unfortunately," she muttered, overwhelmed when she thought about how she was just over six and a half months pregnant, and there was still so much left to do. He shifted to reach behind him, and she thought first of the gun, and was surprised when he pulled out his wallet.

He opened his walletit and pulled out a hundred, then another and another, and eventually she just stopped counting. "Jason, you don't have to give me-"

"I said I was going to help," he cut in quietly, placing the money in the middle of the table and slipping his wallet back into his pocket.

"You already did," she reminded him, thinking of how he and Sonny had heroically taken care of her medical bills. "I don't need-"

"You have a lot to get. If I knew anything about this stuff, I'd help, but I don't. Sso just…take the money," he said, getting up from the table and carrying his plate over to the sink. His shoulders tensed when she hesitated, his hands gripping the side of the counter. "Please, Elizabeth."

"Okay," she replied, taking a deep breath as she folded the money into her fist, telling herself if this was Jason Quartermaine she wouldn't have thought twice, so why did this matter? "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he muttered, walking back over to get her plate, his eyes dropping to her stomach as she suddenly grabbed it.

"Sometimes it's just really hard," she said, gently patting her side. "I don't think the baby knows his strength."

"His?" he asked, nearly dropping the plates into the sink.

"Oh, I don't know," she replied, shrugging when he leaned against the counter as he looked at her. "When the baby's kicking really hard, I think it's a boy, but when it's being nice and quiet, I think it's a girl. Pretty sexist of me, huh?" Sshe grinned, which pulled a hint of a smile from his lips, and she really wished she could do something to make him smile more. When he had the night before, it'd been one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. "I'll find out next week when I go for a checkup that will hopefully get me released back to work."

Straightening, she tossed up one hand, the other still rubbing her stomachsuddenly had an idea. "Maybe…you could come."

"To the appointment?" he asked, tensing up as he asked.

"If you want," she replied, worried that she'd overstepped her grounds in some way, just like she had when she _made_ him touch her stomach. "There'll be an ultrasound and you can see the baby. Maybe we can even learn the sex…"

His jaw ticked as he dropped his eyes to the ground and turned back to the sink, his shoulders tight as he started the water for the dishes. She may have been wrong, but she liked to think that she heard him say maybeokay, though it was probably just wishful thinking.

**********

Retail therapy had been both an enlightening and horrifying experience for Elizabeth. It was a stark reminder that in just a few months, she'd have a baby, one that expected to be taken care of and loved, and she just wasn't sure if she was ready.

The past few days had given her hope with the possibility that she wouldn't do this alone, that Jason was going to be there, but something told her she was pushing him Jason farther than he wanted to go. It was obvious from the way he finished up the breakfast dishes and said he had somewhere to be, practically runningpractically ran out her door after she invited him to the appointment.

A lot had happened between them, a completely change from who they'd been a week ago., and no longer were theyThey were _trying_ to move forward instead of fighting and hating one another fighting and hating one another, but they were _trying_ to move forward. It was silly of her to think that things would run smoothly when he'd only said he _wanted_ to be there. Did that mean he would?

Sighing, she slammed the drawer to the baby's dresser closed, catching her finger in the process, and suddenly burst into tears for the fourth time that day.

The first had been when Brenda canceled on her that afternoon. O, and once she stopped crying she went alone and bought almost everything that she needed, only to start bawling again once she realized all of it wouldn't fit into her car. The manager of the store downtown had been really kind to her, offering to call someone, and she'd given him Johnny's number. The guard showed up fifteen minutes later, threatening the life of the manager when he saw how upset Elizabeth was. Thankfully the manager thought he was just an overprotective father and offered to ship their furniture for free later that afternoon.

And now, here she was, crying again all by herself because she'd been too proud and angry to let Johnny stay and see her like this. He'd stayed until the furniture came, insisting that he move it around the room to Elizabeth's liking, and finally she just told him to get the hell out and leave her alone, which started the tears once more.

Swearing, she slammed her fist into the dresser, fighting something she couldn't exactly see, but she knew it was thereknew was there. That awful feeling that he Jason was going to decide he _couldn't_ do this. That suddenly his desire to help her and the baby, to believe that they were more would just fade away into nothing, and he'd leave her.

Then again, how could he leave her when he wasn't really _with_ her?

She leaned against the dresser, wiping her face with the back of her hands as she slowly sank to the floor. Cradling her hand in her hands, she leaned forward, telling herself that she had to stop this, but she couldn't.

She couldn't stop thinking about how his fingers had curled against her sides last night, much like they had that night in her studio, and he'd torn himself away from her. Or about how his eyes became darker, angrier when he touched her, even though seconds before that he'd been so concernedhe'd been so concerned just seconds before.

"Elizabeth." She stiffened at the sound of his voice, knowing that Johnny had called him and told him about this afternoon, and that he was worried when found her crying on the nursery room floor. "Eliza-"

"Don't," she hissed, holding her hand up when he approached, for once _not_ wanting his touch and his comfort when he was just going to take it away moments later. "Just leave me alone."

"It's not good for you to be upset," he said softly, sighing as he kneeled down in front of her.

"You don't think I know that?" she asked, lifting her icy blue eyes to his, enjoying how he flinched when he saw the anger reflected in them. She wiped her cheeks, clenching her eyes closed when tears started to build, refusing to let him see her cry again. "I just don't want – want to do this anymore."

"What?" He rocked back on his heels, his brow furrowingfurrowing his brow as if he didn't understand.

"I don't want to do this," she repeated, hating that she was angry when he sat there without so much as a word. "I'm tired of not knowing. Of feeling awful all the fucking time, Jason."

"Elizabeth…" Swallowing hard, he inched towards her, shaking his head. "I didn't…I don't know what I did."

"You didn't do anything," she replied spitefully, "which is the fucking problem."

"I don't understand," he said, taking a deep breath and trying to keep his calm.

Something about it enthralled her, to see him fighting his anger, to see him teetering on the edge of giving into and blowing up because he didn't understand what was wrong. At least when he fought with her, he spoke his mind and, said whatever he wanted, and wasn't walking on eggshells.

"Just go," she repeated, trying to push herself up from the floor, but nearly fallingfell.

Jason moved quickly, his arm snakingsnaking his arm around her waist to help her up, and she pushed him away so hard that she stumbled on her feet. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to hurt yourself, Elizabeth? Do you want to end up back in the hospital?" She flinched at his tone, almost having forgotten how cruel it could sound. He noticed, lowering it instantly. "Just tell me what's wrong."

"I – I don't know!" she cried, bursting into tears yet again, her entire body trembling with a fury she couldn't exactly place. "I just – I want you to talk to me. To tell me what you're thinking. To stop clamming up every time I get too close. I want to know why you're so persistent on being here, but you – you don't…God, I don't know, Jason. Just go!"

She felt like she was going crazy, her head spinning from the constant rush of emotions and not knowing what she wanted. "Please, just leave me alone," she said, backing away when he straightened up and started towards her. "I don't want this. I don't want-"

"You don't want what?" he asked roughly. "I'm here, Elizabeth. I'm trying. I gave you money. I took care of you. I don't know what else I can give you."

"You could be honest," she replied, trying to catch her breath when she continued to cry. "You could talk to me instead of holding everything in. I see you shut down, Jason. You've done it so many times in the last day, and I know we promised not to be angry, but sometimes it's the only way-"

"The only way?" he interrupted, narrowing his eyes at her. "Do you want me to hurt you? Do you want to know everything that I think about when you talk about the baby? When you want me to see it or touch? You _don't_ know want to know, Elizabeth!"

"But I do!" she said, her shoulders sagging exhaustedly, though part of her was relieved that he understood why she was so upset. At least he realized when he was shutting her out. "I want to know what you think or feel. Even if it hurts me because that's the _only_ way this is going to work!"

"I'm not doing this," he muttered angrily, his fists slowly clenchingslowly clenching his fists at his sides. "I'm not going to hurt you so you feel something. Are you crazy?"

"No, you're just going to hold everything in and flip out-"

"What do you want me to say?" he cried, his voice so loud it echoed around them. She knew she'd won, that she'd pushed him too far. "Do you want to know that sometimes I don't like this? That when I think about the baby or how it feels when it kicks, it _disgusts_ me? That I don't want to be a father? That I don't deserve _any_ of this?" She sucked in a breath, having expected some kind of reactionomething like that, but it didn't change how horrible it sounded. "Is that what you want to hear? Because I'm trying. I want you and the baby to be okay and to be there, but I just don't know if I can this. I told you that in the hospital, so don't slam me because you set your expectations too fucking high."

"I didn't set any expectations," she defended, pointing her finger at him. "I don't have a single one because I know what's going to happen. It's going to be too much, too fucking hard, and you'll just run away. And I'll be stuck. Do you ever think that it's nice to just have an option? That you can just give up?"

He rubbed his fists together, slowly lifting his eyes to hers. "If you think that little of me, then why am I here?"

"I didn't call you," she reminded him, glancing in the direction of the door. "You came here on your own. _You_ wanted to drive me home last night. _You_ made me breakfast. Stop acting like you're doing all these things that you don't want to do. You're the one making the choice. _You_."

Her breath hitched and she clutched her side, swearing at herself under her breath for doing this. "I'm fine," she said, holding out her hand when he stepped forward. "I just…need to sit down for a second." She turned around before he could say anything and walked out of the nursery, hurrying over and sinking down on the edge of the foldout.

This was nothing like she'd felt the other night. If anything, her body was just reminding her of her delicate state and to step back. Within minutes she felt better; the room wasn't starting to spin, the baby had felt relaxed, and her legs ached less now that they weren't being stood on.

She didn't know how long she sat alone in the dimly lit living room before Jason finally came out of the nursery. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she tipped her head towards him, feeling guilty that she'd picked a fight just to get through to him. "I don't…" She let out a shaky breath and looked up at him, relieved that his eyes were tender and worried. "I just wanted you to talk to me." He opened his mouth and she sensed an apology coming, so she cut him off. "All those things…we're both just scared, Jason, and that's okay. We're supposed to be, but we have to talk to each other. It's the only way this is going to work."

Slowly, he made his way over to the bed, hesitating next to the chair, and finally choosing chose the space beside her. The mattress dipped below his weight, leaning tipping her in his direction. She placed her hand in the small space between them; surprised when he carefully placed his over hears as if fearful she would pull away.

"I…" She sucked in a breath when the back of his hand skimmed up her arm as if trying to soothe her. She lifted her eyes to his and smiled. "I'm okay." Leaning over, she brushed her cheek against his shoulder, closing her eyes when his arm slipped around her. "I don't want to fight, Jason."

Shifting, he pulled her closer, his other hand wiping her wet cheeks. "I don't either."

Instinctively, she curled against him, resting her head on his shoulder as he rubbed his hand up and down her back, becoming so relaxed that she started to doze off in his arms.

Eventually, sShe felt him ease her back, lifting and lift her carefully into the center of the bed. She waited for the mattress to lighten as he moved to the chair, but it never did, and just as she drifted off to sleep, she felt his slender finger trace the curve of her belly and the baby kick in response.


	39. Chapter 39

**Attention Readers:**

I just wanted to let you all know that I will **no** longer be updating my fics on this site and that within the next couple weeks or so, I'll have the account removed in its entirety.

I have been having so many issues with uploading my documents from Word and the documents still containing tons of mistakes that aren't in the copy I have saved on my computer. I've tried countless ways of avoiding this, but it's still happening, and lately I've been getting lots of PMs/Emails/Comments about the lack of editing. It's as frustrating for me as it is for you to read, and I'm tired of not being able to fix it, especially when I spend so much time editing them.

I have a personal website with all my fanfics (as well as site exclusives) that you can find here linked on my author page. For some reason I couldn't link it here - just another reason to be pissed off with this site. You do have to register an account to read, but it only takes a few minutes. I send out email alerts every time a story is updated just like you receive on here or you can bookmark a thread to receive alerts when it's updated.

If you wish to continue reading the stories, you'll have to sign up for my site. I know it's inconvenient, but has proven to be more inconvenient than anything else for me, and I'm throwing in the towel.

Hopefully you're not too pissed off at me for doing this and I'll see you on the site.

Ambs


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